


I Want Your Heart

by PeterStark



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Bloody Valentines, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Food Puns, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is Whipped, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is proud, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Isn't Hannibal it's own warning by now?, Kinky Murder Husbands, Love Confessions, M/M, Manipulation, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Murder, Murder Fantasies, Murder Husbands, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Prostate Milking, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Sexual Content, What Have I Done, Will Graham Doesn't Need Help, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a Cannibal, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterStark/pseuds/PeterStark
Summary: Such a strong, beautiful heart.More than anything Hannibal wanted a taste of that heart, no, not a taste, he wanted the whole heart. Would he stuff it and season it to perfection? Will certainly had a big heart, it would take well to stuffing. Or would he rather slice it up? Take all that power, slicing such a strong, hard-working muscle. Make a stew, have it to warm him on a cold winter night...But that wasn't possible.Hannibal didn't want to lose Will. No. Sure, he wanted to know what that brain looked like and wanted those special eyes that could see so clearly. Wanted that clever tongue that could spar with him on any day. Hannibal wanted all of it, but most of all, the heart under his hand. He wanted Will's heart.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 21
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you normally read my other stuff, this soooo isn't it. I may have watched Hannibal over again and now my mind is just full of ideas. This is probably the darkest thing I'll ever write...unless I write more in this fandom. Holy crap I forgot how good this show was.  
> I own nothing.

Hannibal carded his fingers through Will's hair. He looked so calm, so relaxed...so vulnerable. It was breathtaking. The power he had. Just under his hands was a brilliant mind a unique one. Hannibal knew that one day, the wonderful mind under that gloriously curly hair would figure him out. Will was no fool. Will would find out what Hannibal did.

He hoped that Will wouldn't run or end things prematurely. Hannibal'd never met someone so his equal and he rather liked keeping him around.

Thump. Thump.

There was that problem, of course. Hannibal let his hand slid down Will's cheek, then throat, then pressed his hand over that heart. So brave. So many times he'd seen Will stand where he should have run, when he wanted to run. Will felt fear more acutely than anyone and yet when the fear hit him, Will planted himself. 

Thump. Thump.

Such a strong, beautiful heart.

More than anything Hannibal wanted a taste of that heart, no, not a taste, he wanted the whole heart. Would he stuff it and season it to perfection? Will certainly had a big heart, it would take well to stuffing. Or would he rather slice it up? Take all that power, slicing such a strong, hard-working muscle. Make a stew, have it to warm him on a cold winter night...

But that wasn't possible.

Hannibal didn't want to lose Will. No. Sure, he wanted to know what that brain looked like and wanted those special eyes that could see so clearly. Wanted that clever tongue that could spar with him on any day. Hannibal wanted all of it, but most of all, the heart under his hand. He wanted Will's heart.

Will's face twitched in pain or fear.

Hannibal hadn't noticed it. Noticed the change in the sweat on Will's skin. It had been damp with their activities, but now his lovely skin was broken out in a cold sweat. His heart was thumping a little faster. He smelled of fear instead of sex. Was this Will, subconsciously picking up on the fact that a preditor was sharing his bed, thinking of the taste of his heart? Or was it the work?

The work wasn't good for Will. Hannibal could see that. He almost missed the teaching days. But it was also...interesting to see how Will's mind reflected other's. Somehow, it was more distressing to see him unwell. Afterall, Will wasn't a pig, like the others. If other humans were pigs and Hannibal was a person well...Will might be the first person Hannibal's ever known.

Fear didn't sit well in flesh. Hannibal knew that.

"Will? William. You're dreaming. Wake up."

Will, after some prodding, woke and gasped for breath, not unlike a man Hannibal had drowned once. His eyes were unfocused. Like he was still trapped somewhere else. "H-Hannibal?"

"Easy, take a deep breath."

Will did as told, then turned on his side. "Sorry."

"We can't control our dreams, William." Hannibal wrapped one arm around the shaking man, and combed the other through his curls. "Is it the work?"

"It's getting in my head. They...they're getting in my head. It's getting so easy to step into who they are. It's getting hard not to look. I...I don't like it. I feel like a puppet and they're cutting my strings, my ties to reality, one at a time."

"Well, then we'll have to teather you to something they can't cut." Hannibal kissed the top of his head.

"Everyone else told me to stop."

"Would you listen if I asked you to?"

"Do you need to ask that question?"

"No. I know you too well, Will. You won't stop. You can't. I don't hold it against you, but you need something to hold onto. Otherwise your empathy will be letting them in and not containing you." Hannibal warned.

"Will you bring me back? If I lose myself?"

"If you were torn into thousands of pieces, I'd put you back together." Hannibal said and he could have promised it. Though, he may consume a piece or two for himself...the heart, probably.

Thump. Thump.

"You're calming down. Good."

"Thank you..." Will whispered. "For helping."

"Of course, Will. Might you sleep again?"

"I can try, no promises. I want nothing more than to sleep, but not have dreams."

"Nothing to be done about that, I'm afraid." Hannibal kissed his shoulder and lightly scraped his teeth over that smooth flesh. No. Hannibal couldn't take his heart. He wanted that, but could never abide the taste of fear on Will. Though not uncommon for Will to feel fear...he didn't want fear to sully him. Though it wasn't like he could hurt the first real person he'd ever met. No. Finally there was someone on his level, alive. A small smile tugged at Hannibal's lips. "Nothing I can do to exhaust you?"

Will's cheeks warmed with a lovely red color, his eyes darting, unable to find or unwilling to meet Hannibal's eyes.

"Sh, Will, close your eyes, you don't need to see anything here." Of course there was. If Will ever opened his eyes, ever looked into Hannibal, he'd find the very monster he tried so hard to catch, but Hannibal would keep Will's eyes shut as long as possible.

Will closed his eyes

Hannibal set about exhausting the teacher, making him writhe and gasp and moan. It really was like a tiny death. The closest Hannibal would come to killing dear William. When Will's body went tense with his pleasure, Hannibal gently bit him, right over his pounding heart. With a swipe of his tongue against the flesh he was bruising, he could almost taste it, taste Will. It was enough.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It would never be enough.

Hannibal pulled away, then gently rubbed the love bite that would definitly be bruised in the morning, trying to soothe the hot flesh as Will regained himself, coming down from his tiny death.

Will reached out for him, his fingers obviously intending to return the favor.

"No." Hannibal whispered, he turned them so that he could spoon the younger man. They often didn't sleep that close. Will didn't like it, given how often he had nightmares.

"But...don't you want?"

Hannibal hummed and kissed the back of his neck. "No. Rest."

"What do you want?" Will asked quietly, his voice tired, he was obviously fading into sleep.

Hannibal tried to be honest, honest as he could. "I want your heart." He splayed his fingers over that spot, feeling.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Silly, you have that."

Power flooded through Hannibal, he could hear it in his own heart. Will didn't know what he was saying, quiet obviously. Still, Hannibal smiled in the dark and kissed his neck, pressing his hand harder over the teacher's heart. "Rest now."

Will fell asleep.


	2. No Other Shall Have It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual Hannibal violence and gore and cannibalism...because Hannibal.  
> As I write this, I find we'll sort of skim through the cannon then learn what happens after the fall, given the differences I slowly put in here. Hope you guys don't mind.

The day started off fairly normal...well, when Will said 'normal' he meant completely abnormal to almost all the world population, but normal for him, anyway. He stood in a library. A man was strung up, nude, bound in elegant knots, eyes wide. Sliced to ribbons. Death by a million cuts.

"Well?" Jack asked.

"I um..." Will glanced around the room, his eyes darting, too quick to take it all in. He didn't want to take it all in. He'd seen this death before. Five of them, all alike, in New York. They'd all been bound in some elegant manner, all been sliced. It was poetic in a horrible way. The lovingly done knots next to the horrible cuts. All in public places, no pattern to link the victims as of yet. He didn't want to look. He didn't want inside this head again. Every time he saw into one of these minds he caught some of it reflected in his own.

"Will, you with me?"

"Y-yeah. I'm just...tired." He pulled off his glasses and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes, everything was clear. "I followed you home. You thought you were safe. You didn't make it to your front door. A needle, simple, effective, behind your ear. You couldn't fight. This is my design. I brought you here, where you'd be seen. Everyone would see you when the sun rose. But I'd have all night with you. No buildings close enough, no one around. Even if you could scream, you wouldn't be heard." Will saw it, a bruise that almost looked like fingerprints. "I touched you. I needed to and I tied you, you woke up before I had you off your feet, hanging an inch from the ground, unable to get out, to fight. You woke up early, it didn't matter." Will's eyes darted over the body. "I circled you, I touched you. You were mine and when you spat at me I sealed your lips. This is my design. I picked a knife from my collection and I cut. I cut again and again. You bled, so slow. It ran down you like rain runs over a windshield. The cuts are ugly, the blood is beautiful. The medicine wears off, just in time for you to feel life drain out of you. Slow and and agonizing. Then a final blow, deep to the gut, before you forgot what pain feels like. I wanted you to feel pain, first with a million tiny cuts, then deeply. This is my design."

Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Will?"

"He, uh...had to touch them. All of them. He wanted to touch them and hated touching them. It made him ANGRY to touch them. He wanted them awake to ache in every way, then he stabs deep, where it hurts most. He wants to ruin them because they make him angry. Then he realizes that they'll fade away, they'll just slip into sleep with blood loss and he can't let them go. He has to make them hurt." Will put on his glasses.

"Why?" Jack asked.

Will's breath shook. He reached out for the file and pulled free the picture of the dead man, the man who was unrecognizable compared to his living self. "Because they're beautiful. That's the profile. Each victim. Look at their skin. No flaws. Not even pimples. They have perfect skin. It has nothing to do with their faces or ages or hair or eyes or gender or race. Their skin is perfect." It was too perfect. The killer knew that and Will knew it. Skin too perfect. Will flinched at his own thoughts.

"If he wants to touch it and destroy it, that suggests that our killer may have a skin condition, maybe acne or eczema or psoriasis? Something visible that marks them as different. Maybe he feels disfigured. Maybe people think of him as disfigured. Maybe cuts or burns. He is hurt, jealous, and hateful." Hannibal said, speaking when Will could not.

"That helps. Skin condition or disfigurement can narrow down the field."

Will turned to leave, then froze. "I need two books. No, make it four." Will bolted for the nearest shelf and grabbed the books he needed before he put them in front of the body, on the floor. 

"What is this about?"

"Look at how he's tied." Will stood on the books, then he tilted his head, the way the dead man's head was forced to be held. Sure enough, angled toward the fountain behind the reception desk. The black tiles of the wall were as reflective as glass...as a mirror. "He made them watch. They all watched. The mirrored ceiling of the club, Amy was tied to the floor. The school, facing the safety mirror. The glass doors at the store... They were made to watch. Did you check their eyelids?"

"No."

"Their eyes might have been taped open...check for adhesive." They deserved to see it. Will for a moment, wasn't sure if the killer was in his head speaking, or if it was some part of him. "I um...I'm going to go."

"Will-"

Will left the building and sat down against the bricks. His head hurt. The killer...he was alone. He'd been taunted, probably tormented, abused for something he likely couldn't control. Will could feel that pain, that anger, that self-loathing. He could feel the pain of those people, punished for having clear skin. The pain the panic the fear. I roared in his head. It was getting so hard to sort out where he ended and where the others began.

Then it occurred to him. The people. They were connected. Their killed had been hurt by them, scorned, mocked. Maybe not even verbally, maybe just by seeing their skin. Was that how he followed them so easily? He knew them already. Ex-schoolmates? Some sort of hobby group? What did the victims all share aside from their skin? Because they shared that too, with the killer.

"Will. Will? William?"

His name was being called. He couldn't breathe, couldn't respond.

"Will."

His glasses were removed, his face was pressed to something warm, a hand gripped his neck. He was putty. A ragdoll that couldn't breathe. So many possible answers swirled around him as the victims cried out.

"Breathe. This is very important. You need to breathe. With me, Will."

Will couldn't breathe.

A head pressed against his, breathing in his ear. "Listen to me, Will. You don't need your eyes, close them."

Will hadn't realized they were open. He could see a suit jacket in front of him, pressed to him.

"Close them."

Will listened.

"Very good. Now breathe, with me."

Will found his breaths getting easier. Everything was clearer. "I need the..."

"You need to rest. This is putting a great strain on you." The calm breathing was professional, but the quick, but gentle way Hannibal brushed a curl from his forehead was a little less than professional, but that was all he did before holding him again, coaching him through his breaths.

"I need the victim's files. I need to know what they did, where they worked, where they went to school, their hobbies. They all had one in common."

"I will get them for you, only if you sit down and keep breathing. Can you do that?"

Will nodded and felt himself get lowered to the ground, against the bricks again. 

"I'll go get what you need."

-

The files gave up nothing. So Will called the latest victim's secretary, asked for his appointments and schedule. After the woman had cried her eyes out for her boss, she'd sent his entire schedule directly to Will. He came up with a list of five possible places they all could have met. They all split for the night, searching for the correct place.

Will picked the short straw, in that, upon walking into the acting studio, he saw the group pictures on the wall and saw all the victims faces amongst the pictures. And then... "Vitiligo." He realized, seeing a man who's skin pigmentation was uneven. "That's not a flaw..." Will closed his eyes. It didn't matter. It wasn't a choice, but the man in the picture was different. Will knew all too well what people did to those who were different.

Will picked up his phone and dialed Jack. 

"No luck at the club." Jack sighed. "Please tell me you've got something."

"I do. It's the acting studio. That's where he's picking them from." Will walked up to the desk. "I'm going to get you a name, Jack."

"Please do, and send it my way. We're heading your way."

"Thanks." Will hung up and walked up to the small desk. Without much hitch at all, he got the name he needed and sent the text to Jack. He stepped outside. There was a feeling of... something on the air. He could almost feel it, like the killer was close. Fear tightened in his chest, but Will put a hand on his gun and moved anyway. The street was busy. Nothing too bad could happen.

That's how a normal day became an abnormal day.

-

Will woke to a stiff body, his eyes wouldn't open, something was holding them closed. And even if his body didn't feel stiff, there were ropes wrapped around him. The bulk of his weight was on his shoulders and it hurt. A barely healed injury pulled at him, aching as his body was supported almost entirely on his upper arms and shoulders.

"You're riddled with scars."

Will went still. He couldn't open his eyes, but he knew where the voice came from. He couldn't turn his head, but he knew where the man was. "Jonas?"

"I knew you found me. I saw you. At the library...and then at the studio."

"You take your victims to places of significance to them. Where am I?"

"I knew no place for you. You..."

Will tensed when a hand touched him. The killer felt his skin, ungloved fingertips danced along scars. Will did not like people touching him. Not at all.

The man, Jonas, continued. "You aren't like them, but my art isn't finished. And I can't have you stop me before the show's over."

The voice moved. Then a knife slashed across Will's left shoulder blade. Warm liquid began to run down his back, he could feel it. "Why not make me watch, like the others?" Maybe if he kept the killer talking, he could buy himself some time.

"You aren't like them. You're just in the way." Three more slices, one with each of his next words. "You're like me."

"Ah." Will pulled away. Those cuts had gone deeper, caused him to arch, caused him to pull a shoulder out of socket. It became clear, really quickly. That this killer wasn't going to draw it out, make Will bleed slowly. No. Blood was flowing too quick. Faster than on any of the vics. This killer really was only going to kill him because he was in the way. This was going to be quicker, because there wasn't the malice, the hate behind it. Will tried to move his arms, to seek freedom. Even before he'd dislocated his shoulder, there was no slipping from these ropes. He screamed with the effort, the way his arm ached.

"Sh, sh." Something covered his mouth. "No more screams. I'll make it quicker."

"MMMMM!" Will screamed into the tape over his mouth as the knife slashed across his chest.

-

Hannibal knew there was something wrong when he pulled up to the studio. Jack was pacing. Agents were getting into their cars and driving, searching. People were casing the streets for evidence. A crime had happened. Will's car was there, but Will was not.

Will had found the killer, like he always did. The killer was smart and knew who his worst enemy would be. But a fool to not consider what Hannibal would do to someone who touched Will.

Hannibal knew he loved Will at first sight. Which was strange. He'd not felt love in a very long time. He'd felt it for his sister, but his heart had hardened after... And anyway, most people didn't deserve the effort of Hannibal's feelings. Sure, some were amusing. Some he'd even call friends. Some were pets. Most were food. But he looked at William Graham and loved him in an instant. Why? Hannibal hadn't known at the time.

Was it how angry he'd been about psychoanalyzing? Was it his cleverness? Was it the intrigue of his mind?

Perhaps that's how it started.

But then Hannibal learned what his unconscious knew instinctually. 

Will Graham was just like him.

Hannibal saw it when he learned that Will had worked in homicide, but given it up because he didn't like guns. And yet, when handed a gun, Will showed no hesitance, no fear of the weapon. No, he seemed comfortable and afraid of that comfort.

When Will worked a crime scene, his active imagination could have placed him in the moment, watching it like a film, but it didn't. Will could empathize with anyone, yet he always put his feet in the killer's shoes, as if her were more at peace there than in the victim's shoes. Yet, he was afraid of it, afraid of who he saw in himself when he went there.

Will was a killer, or...maybe he would be. But he was also a good man. Less a devil, more an avenging angel. Yet he thought of himself as a broken, awful thing.

It was beautiful. 

Every day Hannibal grew more in love with him. Hannibal knew some men loved the livestock they slaughtered. Hannibal had killed people he'd admired and ate them from a place of admiration and care, those were rare, of course, most people were barely worth more than animals. If anyone was going to hurt or kill or even touch, Will Graham, it would be him...out of pure love.

But he wouldn't. He'd keep him alive. He cared too much, which was really inconvenient, since the man was trying to capture him.

But now, this killer, whoever he was, Hannibal was going to destroy him. Hannibal would destroy anyone who dared to touch Will.

-

When Hannibal arrived the killer was carving into Will's torso. It was fascinating, that even someone like Will, who was elevated above all the pigs, still sliced like one. If anyone was going to slice up Will though, it would be Hannibal, because only he'd do it with the justice, care, and love that a being like Will deserved. Will was strung up, his hands bound behind him, ropes wrapped over his upper arms, then under his arms to wrap twice around his chest. It was just enough so Will's body was tilted forward, almost a seventy degree angel to the ground while his arms were parallel, holding nearly all his weight. He must've struggled, because his shoulder was out of place.

The ropes looked pretty on his skin. He wondered if he could tie Will up that pretty and have his way with him. After this, Will probably wouldn't be up for that, though.

Stones were taped over his eyes, a weight to keep them heavy and closed. His mouth sealed. He'd probably screamed in pain. The wet, glossy floor of the gym was covered in water and an alarming amount of red. Will was very much unconscious, his body drained of color. The killer shifted, slicing into Will's thigh, uncomfortably close to his genitals, but Hannibal couldn't focus on that sin. A deep gash was revealed over Will's heart when the killer moved out of his line of sight. 

THAT was unacceptable.

Hannibal walked forward and lifted a knife from the collection the killer had on a table. He wanted to eat this killer. Turn his bones into a broth and make a soothing soup to help Will regain his strength and health. Wanted to show Will, even if he didn't know it, that he would kill for him. That if Will was ever touched, he'd destroy that person. But it would be too suspicious. Better to make the young killer flee and feel safe and save Will for certain, than to risk killing the man and losing Will. "Nicely weighted, good for flesh. But, I really must warn you to leave that particular man alone."

The killer jumped and put the knife to Will's throat.

"Just a professional courtesy. Leave him. They're coming."

"You were with them."

"Ever heard of hiding in plain sight? I suppose you've done it, blended in with the masses, hid in the shadows. That's how you caught him in the first place, isn't it? You hid in the shadows and he didn't see you until it was too late. Well, I'm hiding from them too. He's as good as dead. Those are deep cuts. He'll bleed out in less than an hour. You have time, go. Run while you can. Because if I found you, the rest of the pigs will be here soon enough. I'd rather like to see this one bleed out. Been a thorn in my side."

The man thought about it and eyed Hannibal as he twirled a blade in his hand.

The killer thought correctly, and ran.

Hannibal walked quickly to Will and gently brushed back his hair. "Lemme see you, love." He quickly examined his naked, bleeding lover, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. His hand pressing on the wound in his chest and shifting the ropes to try to slow the bleeding and relieve pressure on his arms. "I'll call help." Hannibal promised and pulled away. As Hannibal moved to grab his phone, he brought his bloodstained fingers to his lips. Even tainted with fear...Will's blood was sweet under its iron tones.

Hannibal smiled. He'd be having fresh meat soon, and revenge. Poor Will would need something soothing to eat while he regained his strength. The hunt would begin as soon as Will was safe. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Hello, I'm calling because I heard someone screaming for help. It...it didn't sound good."

"What is your location, sir?"

Hannibal answered, then hung up. He went back to Will, pressing firmly on the deeper wounds. The healthy, brave heart didn't know any better than to keep pumping blood out of those wounds. It was just trying to do what it did best. But Hannibal needed to keep that blood in a few moments longer. He heard sirens scream in the night, drawing closer. "Hold on a few minutes more, William." He took a moment to count every wound inflicted on Will. He would inflict those on his next prey.

The pale, unconscious man didn't move or answer. But Hannibal knew how much blood a man could lose, how long they could bleed. Will would be alright.

Hannibal snuck out into the night. He had a killer to hunt.

-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Will blinked his eyes open. He ached everywhere.

"Will? Will?"

"Jack?"

"Good to see you awake." Jack smiled.

"What happened with Jonas? How...how did you find me?"

"Dumb luck, an anonymous tip. They heard you screaming."

"Did he get away?"

"Don't worry about that. You're a mess, you need to rest."

Will laughed weakly. "Still think I'm a good option for your team?"

"I think you're the best option on my team." Jack smiled then ruffled his hair. "Rest up, Will."

Will tilted his head to the side, expecting to see Hannibal in the seat next to his bed.

Will drifted back unconscious with a feeling of disappointment in his chest.

-

Hannibal watched Will sleep. The wrap around his chest filled him with a...slight anger. He needed to rid himself of that feeling. He reached out and put his hand on Will's shoulder. It was a habit. They both agreed to be professionals. No one knew they were together. Which was good. If anyone did find out about Hannibal, he didn't want Will hurt because of it.

Will's eyelids blinked open, looking heavy, likely with the pain medication. "D-Dr. Lecter."

"Hello, Mr. Graham." Hannibal returned with a smile. "How are we feeling?"

"T-thirsty."

"I can help with that." Hannibal slid closer and opened the thermos he'd brought. "Bone broth, full of minerals. It helps the stomach and can help against infections. It can be a bit bitter or flavorless, but I've added some herbs and spices. I was going to bring you a soup, but with the medicine you are on I thought it best not to upset the stomach."

"Thank you."

"Here, regain some strength." Take it back from the beast that touched you. Hannibal gently tilted the thermos. Will drank, consumed one who might have consumed him. Peace filled Hannibal. It was over now.

"Making sure they don't fuck up my stitches?" Will asked weakly.

"Of course. Can't lose what you've said is mine." Hannibal put his free hand over Will's heart.

Will's lips quirked up a little bit. "Thank you...that's really good." He nodded his head to the thermos.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Hannibal pulled it away. "If you find yourself able to stomach more, it'll keep, nice and warm." He knew the teacher had to be dealing with an upset stomach. Hopefully the ginger would aid that.

"Wh-what happened to Jonas?"

"No one knows. Jack's been looking, but no trace of him is to be found. No one else has been murdered either, so there's at least that."

Will laughed weakly. "I found him...still couldn't catch him. He fucking caught me."

Hannibal brushed a curl off Will's forehead. "We know who he is. We have a face and a name. We'll get him. Meanwhile, you are going to rest."

"Those your orders as a doctor?"

"My orders as YOUR doctor." Hannibal smiled when he saw the faint blush on Will's cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.


	3. I'll Show You Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal sends Will a sort of Valentine. (Only in this fandom does shit like this happen.) Death, destruction, and gore ahead...because Hannibal.

When Jack had said: We found Jonas. Will hadn't expected...this. The body was displayed, rather beautifully, tied with black and white silk ropes. It was found in a dressing room in a theater. Cuts lined his body. The killer had been killed just as he had killed, except...organs were missing. The heart and the liver, his right hand was gone. A chunk of his chest too had been flayed off, over his heart. That part had been done while he was still alive. In fact, it seemed the man hadn't been sedated and, given the signs of medical equipment, the man had lived to see his heart removed, a machine pumping his blood while the rest of the damage was done. His eyelids had been stapled open.

Written on his forehead was a note in blood. 

SLOPPY.

Will was barely standing. His arm in a sling. Many stitches still in his body. And though Hannibal was stoic as ever, and had been cordial with Will about him being at the scene, Will could tell he was fuming by the set of his shoulders.

"What does that mean?" Hannibal asked.

"Well, it looks like our copycat, and he didn't like Jonas." Jack supposed.

Will, didn't say anything. Instead he used his left hand to take off his glasses and he closed his eyes. "I know this killer. I know Jonas. I understand him and his reasons and his methods. His methods are wasteful, insulting. I am better than him. I will teach him..." Will paused. "No, this wasn't just superiority. He was angry, furious. Cold. He sustained life with a machine just so the man could see his own heart pulse in his hand. This was fury. Sloppy?" Will tilted his head to the side. Was this in reference to the copycats's OCD? Jonas' failure to kill Will? This looked like the copycat...this looked also like... Like the Ripper." Will blinked and put his glasses back on. "This was angry." He told the others. "Whoever did this was angry, but still level headed, still honored the kills while dishonoring the killer. It's...very Ripper to me."

"Why was he angry? I don't understand." Jack said.

"Maybe he didn't like that he failed to kill you, William." Hannibal whispered. "It seems you're gaining a reputation. Miss Lounds does like to write about you. Perhaps this killer doesn't want you on their scent."

"But then why not finish me off, get the job done right?" Will asked.

"You looked done to me, Will." Jack whispered. "I've seen corpses with more color. But then word got out you survived the assault on your life...maybe he's angry at that."

"Something's missing. It's like it sees me but I can't see it." Will frowned and winced in pain. 

"I think you left the hospital too soon."

"I agree." Jack said to Hannibal. "Could you take him home? We'll try to sort this out..."

"Of course." Hannibal nodded and wrapped an arm around Will to support him. "Come with me."

"Okay." Will didn't put up a fight, he simply followed Hannibal to the waiting car.

Will knew Hannibal would win that fight anyway. Hannibal was remarkably stubborn about things sometimes. When he got in the car, Hannibal turned the heat up. Will blinked and looked over at the doctor. "Thank you."

"Noticed you were cold, my angel. Now would you please stay at your house where I put you and rest like someone who has common sense?"

"Rude." Will snorted. "Angel?"

"I think of you as a bit like an avenging angel, yes." The look on Hannibal's face said 'fight me if you dare.'

"I thought I was a mongoose."

"That too. Now rest, you're exhausted." Hannibal said as he started to drive Will home.

Will smiled and reached over, brushing back Hannibal's hair, the part that was a little lighter than the rest, a hint of blonde and silver in the brown. He leaned over and kissed his temple, not his best idea, because it pulled at his cuts.

Will had slowly come to love Hannibal, at least he thought it was love. Will didn't have much to compare it to. Most people didn't treat him as much more than something useful to have around, a snare for bad guys to fall in. Hannibal had made him laugh over breakfast. It was then that he realized they both had a similar sense of dark humor, a brand that most people detested or found unseemly. Then, Hannibal had told him that he considered Will to be a mongoose. There had been something about that statement that pleased him, but also that he'd disliked. Still, it was enough for Will to change his mind. He'd thought Hannibal to be uninteresting, but within a few short minutes after saying as much, Will had been eating his words. Hannibal was interesting beyond all measure.

Will loved that.

"You're staring."

Heat filled Will's cheeks and he turned, looking through the windshield. "Sorry."

"I don't mind." Hannibal held his hand out.

Will took it with some difficulty, trying not to hurt his injured shoulder, threading their fingers together. Then he leaned against the door and closed his eyes. He was tired. It was hard to sleep without aches and cuts everywhere, and now he has those too.

"Get some rest, I'll get you home." Hannibal squeezed his hand.

-

Hannibal took Will home. The dogs were, as always, excited to see their master.

"Hey, guys." Will smiled and gave each of them an affectionate pat. Will swayed on his feet and would have fallen if Hannibal didn't catch him. "I'm okay."

Hannibal lifted a hand. "You have a fever." Hannibal quickly helped the teacher to his bed. "You strained yourself. For all we know you could have an infection."

Will, stubborn as he was, stood and reached for his dresser, to get a pair of clothes. As the man unashamedly began to change, Hannibal leaned forward and took a deep sniff of Will as the man got into those ridiculous, but somehow lovely sleep shorts he always wore. Awful aftershave, blood, pain...no infection that he could tell, but he wasn't going to use just one test. Will was struggling to get his shirt off, the sling in the way.

"Let me, William." Hannibal helped the man out of his sling, then, without leaving his sore arm unsupported, he pulled the sweater off of Will. Then, button by button, he took of his undershirt. "There. Now sit against the wall." Hannibal instructed, setting up a pillow to support Will. He left to gather the supplies he needed and, when he got back, not one but two of the dogs were on the bed, damn near on top of Will. They were trying to comfort, but not helping with the pain, given the way Will's face pinched. Hannibal raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue in the way Will had taught him.

The dogs didn't move. Of course they didn't, not with their master there.

"Off, you two." Will said and immediately he was obeyed. "They don't like you as much as they like me."

"They're ruining any chance at keeping this sterile." Hannibal sat at Will's side and felt the agent's fingers weave into his, obviously seeking comfort. "If you were in pain, you should have stayed home or the hospital."

"They asked for my opinion."

"Pictures exist." Hannibal said. "Now, try to behave." He sighed before removing the bandages around Will's torso. Will winced. The worst had been done to his chest and shoulder blades. The deepest cut was over Will's heart and Hannibal was only a LOT bitter and furious about it. "You tore a stitch today. I knew I smelled blood." With a gentle sound, Will's head fell back against the wall as Hannibal began to clean the wound that oozed in his chest. He was as gentle as he could be and made sure to care for it as best as he could, hopefully the scarring would be minimal. It seemed, at least, that there wasn't an infection.

Hannibal knew Will was staring at him as he worked, but didn't comment. "Lean forward, onto me." Hannibal offered his arm and Will leaned forward so the doctor could check the cuts on his shoulders. Narrowing. Scabbed. He was healing nicely, no sign of anything going wrong. "Good." He whispered and kissed Will's uninjured shoulder. "Let me wrap you up again." As he worked he could smell something else, feel Will's muscles tense and shift. "Something you want to tell me, Will? Am I causing you any discomfort?" He chose 'discomfort' on purpose. He could smell Will's arousal, so much more appealing than his awful aftershave.

"Mm." Will hummed then mumbled something unintelligibly as Hannibal lay him back against the wall.

"What was that?" Hannibal asked innocently as he fiddled with the bandage, smoothing it perfectly.

"The cut hurts." Will said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, his cheeks flushed. "The one on my thigh."

"I'll see to it." Hannibal said, keeping his voice unaffected. As a good doctor would, he completely ignored Will's arousal when he shimmied those tiny shorts down. Then he looked at the slice on his thigh. Nearly healed, to be honest. It looked perfectly healthy, no infection, no abnormalities. It was healing as it was supposed to. "It hurts?" Hannibal moved lower, to get a closer look, a pretense, of course. He knew it was fine.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Will said his breath coming a little faster.

"Probably just the scab pulling. You shouldn't be up and running around." Again, perfectly clinical. Hannibal looked up just to see Will squirm. "Wriggling around like that doesn't help...that's probably why it hurt."

"Hannibal." Will's face was flushed and he smelled really rather nice, proof of his arousal twitched just a few inches from Hannibal's face.

"Something else you need taken care of?"

"I hate you." Will laughed.

"I'd wager that you don't. But, even with that rude comment, I won't turn such a lovely feast down." Hannibal smiled and kissed his hipbone.

Will's hips arched up. "Tease."

"Uh-uh. No moving. Your body is working so hard to heal, don't want to open all that up, do you? I worked so hard to keep them clean and safe. Wouldn't do to squirm and ruin my hard work, would it?" Hannibal grinned. "Move and I stop." He warned before he devoured Will, not giving him any chance to prepare. The man was obviously up for the challenge. Hannibal could see every muscle in his torso clench to keep him from moving, feel his hips flex just enough to know he was fighting his urges, heard his hands clench in the blankets. This would be fun.

Once they were both sated and cleaned, Hannibal reached up and put his hand gently over the wound in Will's chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"I'm alright." Will whispered.

Hannibal nodded. "I know." Yet what he really wanted to know was the taste of that lovely, pumping thing. That lovely thing, however, was keeping someone far too important alive to be considered food. If Hannibal was ever caught, could he ask for his last meal to be Will Graham's heart? He was starting to wonder if he could live with Will much longer, given their diverging paths...but he wondered even more if he could ever live without Will.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

No. He couldn't. He'd never feel alive in a world without Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.


	4. Craving It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal drops a love confession as himself and as the Ripper all within a span of a month. Will needs a hug. Also, food puns, because Hannibal.  
> Blame google translate for any translation errors. :)

"Turn around." Will whispered breathlessly. Though he normally was the first to kick up a fuss about bodily fluids, he didn't want to part from Hannibal yet. Will had had enough nightmares and woken up drenched in sweat enough that he hated it, and definitely didn't wish to be that way around a bed partner. But he didn't want to shower just yet or let go.

Hannibal turned. His face flushed, pupils wide, his usually expressionless face serene. "Fuck me..."

"I just did." It was the first time in a while. Hannibal had been treating Will like he was made of glass since Jonas had tried to kill him. Will was fine, had been for a few days, so with or without Dr. Lecter's approval, he'd decided he was going to not have the careful gentle sex they'd been having. It felt good, claiming Hannibal. It was like gaining back the freedom that had been taken away by the angry cuts the killer had made on his body. That and he'd missed having Hannibal. Because Hannibal had been putting his own needs on the backburner since the incident. Will made sure to change that...three times, in fact.

Hannibal laughed. "That was more an exclamation than a...uh..."

"At a loss for words there? High praise coming from you." Will combed his fingers through Hannibal's messy hair.

"Be smug all you wish, I know when I've been bested. Next time I'll see if I can render you speechless."

Will smiled and pulled Hannibal on top of him, sighing when the man rested against his chest. He continued to play with his hair. He loved messing it up, especially with how controlled Hannibal normally kept it. "I'd like to see you try." It would be an exceptional night, to be sure. Hannibal was a damn good lover.

"I accept the challenge, beloved." Hannibal shifted and pressed his ear over Will's heart.

Will kept stroking his hair gently, his other hand splayed over Hannibal's ribs. "You're always doing that."

"I find the sound soothing."

Will smiled and kissed the top of his head as he regained control over his breathing. 

"Aš tave myliu." Hannibal whispered and pressed his lips to the scar over Will's heart.

"Hm?" Will asked. Hannibal sometimes slipped into another language, usually in the throes of passion or in the quiet space after, but Will often didn't understand him.

Hannibal blinked and he went still, as if he didn't understand what he'd just said. Then he relaxed. "Aš tave myliu." He repeated quietly.

"Doesn't answer my question."

Hannibal laughed. "Aš žinau." He pushed himself upright and looked down at Will.

Will wanted more than anything for his eyes to dart away, but they wouldn't. He felt pinned down, seeing too much. 

"Aš tave myliu." Hannibal said it slower, then leaned down and kissed Will.

Will's eyes didn't close like Hannibal's. His eyes opened wider as he kissed Hannibal back. His mind was a lot quieter around Hannibal, but it didn't mean that he stopped feeling that empathy, that constant push and pull of someone else's feelings. Those words, the emotion behind them, made Will's breath catch in his throat. He pushed Hannibal away and rolled on top of him, staring down.

Hannibal, this time, was the one struggling to maintain eye contact.

This couldn't be right. Right? It didn't make sense. Will didn't get this. He never had. His mother left before he could know her. His father was always gone, always working. Will had put himself to bed, made his own meals...been alone for so long. He'd been a freak at school, treated awfully for his 'brokenness' his 'sensitivity.' The adult world hadn't been much easier. No one cared much for connection. They'd fuck, get what they wanted and leave. Of course, Will's mind knew better. He could see the brokenness and the longing for connection and fear in those people, which had turned him off before he'd finished college to the point where he stopped trying to form any romantic ties of any length.

Will always saw and felt so much more than everyone else. He had always been a tool to others because of that. Will knew he was inherently broken and that most people would take whatever they were looking for and eventually leave, like everyone else had...

But this... Hannibal's eyes.

"You...? What?"

"Shall I say it in English?" Hannibal asked, lifting his eyes to meet Will's. "I don't need to translate it...do I?"

No. He didn't. Will could feel it. He almost couldn't breathe He'd used his mind to step into the emotions of serial killers and rapists and cannibals and all sorts of monsters, but this... this felt like drowning. He'd never stepped into this feeling before.

"Close your eyes, William."

Will did. It was too much, he didn't have enough processing power to deal with what he felt in Hannibal. It pulled on too many self doubts, for one, and for another it was all...so much. He could see and feel more than just love, though that was the bulk of it, but there was a pride and a joy and a possession and an obsession and a curiosity and a lust and just so much buried there. He needed to not feel it. It was making his own mind difficult to keep quiet.

"Han..."

"Sh. I know. I don't need a translation either. I understand."

Tears prickled in Will's eyes and he collapsed against Hannibal's chest. "I love you." He whispered anyway. It had to be said, because it was true. For once, he felt safe enough to say those words. He felt seen, understood, cared for...not just some project or a way to relieve stress. No. He needed Hannibal to know how he felt.

Hannibal combed his fingers through Will's curls.

Will rested against him for a few moments. Then he frowned. His skin was damp and cold in the air, tacky. His brain just wouldn't shut up and let him have the moment.

"Come, let's get cleaned up, then we can come back to this, just as we are."

Will smiled and nodded. "Okay."

-

Nothing in the fridge was right. 

Hannibal found himself at a loss when he considered making breakfast. After a night of passion and a morning of lovemaking, he was ravenous and he knew his lover would be too. The issue was that he found himself having a craving. An itch he knew he couldn't scratch. That had never happened before. It was getting worse. The more times Will spent in his bed, the more times he touched his flesh. The craving came. The thing he wanted, couldn't be had. 

But...maybe he could find a suitable replacement.

For this morning though, he'd make due with what he had, even if it wouldn't satisfy that itch.

Hannibal would have to start doing research. He needed to find the cure for this craving...without going to the source.

No.

No one would touch William, not even him.

-

Three weeks of wonderful peace was ruined spectacularly in one moment for Will. That's how it was, for him. He was in love, had a man in love with him, was teaching, had wonderful dogs to keep him company when he wasn't with Hannibal and then... Murder. Of course. What else would it be?

Three murders in tight succession. Three murder scenes found within the span of twenty four hours. All were assumed to be the work of the Ripper. Will was woken by a call from Jack and headed for the first scene.

The first body was a week old, slashed open, his face brutalized, a heart surgically removed from the man's chest. The place the murder had taken place was in a parking garage, yet the body was placed gently in the back of a truck, lay with kindness and car, completely opposite of the Ripper's usual MO. The man's brown hair was matted in the blood he lay in.

Will was tired before he got to the second body, but this one was different. Tied down to a table, the man looked serene, calm. Heart removed. He'd received medication, pain relief. His face had been marred post mortem. He likely hadn't know he was going to die. That seemed by design. It almost didn't look like a Ripper kill at all.

The third body was more different. It was the freshest, a day old, maybe less. He was laying in a bed. Signs showed that he'd been awake, alert, but he hadn't fought. It was pure acceptance and trust. A mask covered the man's face. This man knew he was going to die and didn't care, given just the right amount of pain killers. Will was sure tox screens were going to show him as being high as a kite. (Later they found he was, but not on anything artificial. The man had an abundance of oxytocin and dopamine in his system, but every test they had showed that the man hadn't been violated by the killer, merely given the extra hormones to feel elated.)

"Three assumed Ripper bodies found in one day, murdered within a week of each other. What the hell's going on?"

"Let's look at what's similar. All of them are missing their hearts, the Ripper does eat his trophies..." Will paused. "They were all done in the same way, but in a different way. The first was a craving. It needed doing, the killer NEEDED to do it. The second two...almost feel like apologies."

"Apologies for what?" Jack asked.

"For the craving. It's like Hobbs. He was looking for something. A golden ticket."

"Has he found it? Is it the last vic? It was treated better than the others, not even defiled."

"No. He was aplogizing... The Ripper was apologizing for the craving. He cares about someone, but he's a tiger who can't change his stripes. He's not going after the golden ticket, he's searching for something to keep him from the golden ticket. He won't stop killing, but I doubt he'll kill like this again. He'd be afraid to, afraid of what it might tempt him to do." Will's eyes widened. "He wants to kill someone he loves, but can't bring himself to do it."

"Aside from the missing hearts, what's the same about them? If we can figure out who the golden ticket is, we might get closer to finding him."

"I'll look over their files, see what I can figure out." Will promised.

-

Height's were all right around five nine. They all had dark brown hair. All had AB positive blood. All fit. All early to mid-thirties. Only one of them had been brutalized with malice-that seemed to be a sign of desperation. The others though... They all looked similar, but the killer didn't like their faces. He'd looked for a profile, but hadn't found the person he wanted. It seemed he very much didn't want to kill the person he wanted. That was nice. It meant the killer had a soft spot, something that may be exploitable down the line.

Yet...something was wrong.

Will closed his eyes and leaned back. He went over it again. He knew he was missing something obvious.

Five nine...thirties...dark, wavy brown hair, blue eyes, AB positive blood.

It was like writing a profile for himself down.

Will sat straight up.

Sloppy.

The Ripper had killed someone for trying to kill Will, and now there were three Will look-alikes dead, all with their hearts ripped out, just as Jonas' heart had been ripped out.

It was a Valentine...to Will...from the Ripper.

The Ripper had some sort of obsession with him. That meant the Ripper thought he knew Will.

Something in Will loved the art behind the kills, the touch. It was flattering to be the Ripper's golden ticket. "No, no, nono. It's not...it's not. It's..." Will felt sick. He hated his own disgusting mind sometimes. He loved Hannibal, that was real. This...appreciation was just his empathy going overboard.

The room seemed small and cold. He ran to the bathroom to throw up as any sane person would.

-

Hannibal opened his front door to a rain-soaked Will. He opened the door wide in invitation, without a word. The agent walked past him and tossed the files in his hand onto the nearest flat surface. "He knows my blood type. How does he fucking know that? You don't even know that do you?"

"Who is he, and why are we talking about blood types? I haven't the faintest clue, though I'd guess A positive or O positive, given the percentages. What's this about?" Hannibal asked, divesting Will of his wet coat, and wrapping his own jacket around the smaller, shivering man.

"The Ripper." Will whispered, his voice smaller, scared. "I...three bodies today, Hannibal. All three of them with their hearts removed. And want to know what all three victims have in common?"

"I'm starting to think I don't." Hannibal said, rubbing his hands up and down Will's stiff arms.

"Me. Brown curly hair, same height, same weight, same age, damn near same body composition, same blood type..." Will swallowed, his eyes wide with fear. "Their hearts were removed."

"A threat?" Hannibal asked, knowing otherwise.

"No...no, you didn't see how they were laid out. This was...an apology for a need and apology for an obsession, a...Valentine, a bloody one and I... I couldn't be at home. It's silly. I know. I just... I didn't want to be alone. I mean...no one would even hear me or know if..."

Hannibal pulled will close, cradling the smaller man's face against his shoulder. "Then stay here."

"Thank you." Will nodded. "Though, I probably shouldn't be here either, if this killer is watching me."

"You can always stay here, beloved." Hannibal kissed his temple. "Two stands a better chance anyway, it's not like I'm without a threat myself, since I help on these cases."

Will nodded at the logic. Then frowned. "The last one was awake, awake when the Ripper took his heart."

The three were...an experiment. The first had been a craving, as clever Will knew. Hannibal had wanted a heart but not Will's, so he'd gone and gotten one. The second had...well... he wanted to know if he could artificially create it, that peace to keep the fear from ruining the meat. It almost worked. The last he'd given pleasure to and it had sweetened the meat, but...it still hadn't been Will. Hannibal knew that because he'd tasted Will, his blood, his flesh...he knew that even the last hadn't tasted anywhere near Will.

Hannibal pulled away and waited until Will's darting eyes finally settled. "Good thing no one can get to your heart, my dear William."

"Why not?"

"Because, you gave it to me, of course." Hannibal chuckled and hugged him again. Will's forehead rested easily on his chest. "You're safe here. Come, let's see if we can get you out of those wet clothes. It is a rainy night. How does a hearty stew sound? I have it prepared, but it could wait if you're not up for food."

"Maybe I could do stew."

Hannibal cupped Will's head in his hands. "You've been under so much stress. Please, go change, warm up, I'll bring a bowl to the bedroom. You need to rest, to take care of yourself."

Will nodded shakily. "I'm keeping my gun on me."

"Whatever helps you, William." Hannibal assured him, then locked the front door and returned to the kitchen for food. Beef Heart Stew...save Hannibal hadn't used beef. This one would taste sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.


	5. The Ripper Wants It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've figured it out. I finally know why I'm doing this the way I am. Hopefully you guys'll understand eventually....I hope. Probably pretty soon given how fast I'm writing.

"You say you woke in the middle of the street?" Jack asked.

"I...my feet were cut to ribbons, I'd walked miles from my home. I didn't even change. I...my legs are scratched by thorns and I was covered in mud. I don't...I don't remember anything from yesterday. I don't remember getting home or going to sleep. The sirens woke me up and I didn't know where I was." Will whispered, sitting in the office.

"Have you ever slept walked before?" Dr. Bloom asked.

"I don't think so."

"That's got to be scary." Beverly whispered.

"It could be stress induced. Perhaps you should take a step back, a break. It might help. I fear for your safety." Hannibal stated.

Jack frowned. "You were doing alright until that triple murder, what did you see that you didn't tell me?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't push this." Dr. Bloom advised.

"It's the Ripper. He's got an obsession. I figured it out." Will muttered. It was awful. Going from this realization to the constant headaches and he always feels so hot and the nightmares are worse than ever and now he's sleep walking. It was really all too much to deal with. He'd even been away from Hannibal more than he wanted, just to try to get some rest, but his body wasn't letting him have that anymore. Apparently it liked midnight strolls.

"And that is?" Jack asked, plainly.

"Me. Look at the victims, Jack." A dawning of understanding spread across Jack Crawford's face. "They even have my blood type, which isn't exactly common. It...it left me a little freaked out." He rubbed his temple. His head hurt........

"You could have told me it was getting worse." Hannibal said.

"H-huh?" Will opened his eyes and he wasn't at the FBI anymore. He was at an appointment, with Hannibal. How had he gotten here? When? "What?" He hadn't driven there, but...he must have or...how else would he have gotten there? What...what was happening?

"You just said you've been seeing things." Hannibal rubbed his face. "When you stayed the night, that night when you were worried, I asked if something else was wrong and you said it was just headaches. Sleepwalking is stress or anger induced, I could accept that this relization has brought that on, but now hallucinations? You should have told me."

"I...hallucinated?" Will asked. Then he saw it, a somehow intimately familiar black stag. He closed his eyes tight against the sight.

"Will? William? Have you been losing time?" Hannibal sounded concerned, very concerned.

"I...I don't know. I was just at the FBI, talking about my sleepwalking. How did I get here?" Will asked, tears prickling in his eyes. He couldn't remember. This wasn't right or NORMAL. He wasn't normal, he'd always known his brand of crazy, though. This wasn't right. Was he sick? Was he dying?

"William, listen to me very closely. That was TWO days ago."

"No...no. It can't. I was...just there. I remember. I remember that! I know what's real, I was there!"

Hands landed on his shoulders and helped guide him to the chair. "Easy, Will. Breathe. I need you to look down at your watch, what time is it?"

Will took two shaky breaths, then looked down. "Seven fifty."

"Good. It is Tuesday night, seven fifty. Your name is Will Graham."

"I KNOW that." Tears leaked from his eyes. "I know who I am." His eyes strayed to the chair. The stag was gone, instead Garrett Jacob Hobbs was in Hannibal's normal seat. But...wasn't he dead?

"Good." Hands cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears away. "Steady, Will."

"What's happening to me? This isn't my crazy, I know my brand of crazy. Is this...is this a tumor? Am I going to die?"

"Not on my watch, Will." Hannibal promised.

-

Hannibal didn't like it. Something was, indeed, wrong with Will. Sure he was suffering psychologically, but this was different. This wasn't the lamb trying to wrestle back the lion as usual, this wasn't the mongoose trying to deny it's killer instinct, or an avenging angel trying to hide under the face of a broken man...this was something worse. He cupped Will's face and wiped his tears away. Will's skin was hot, feverish. Will was sick. Hannibal's heart beat a little faster. What was happening to Will? "Steady, Will."

"What's happening to me? This isn't my crazy, I know my brand of crazy. Is this...is this a tumor? Am I going to die?"

"Not on my watch, Will." Hannibal ran his fingers down to his shoulders. Though they tried to never mix their personal with their professional, he leaned his forehead against Will's, to give him some comfort. "Easy, Will." The man was obviously afraid, still fighting as Will did, but terrified. "Let me check a few things, but perhaps a neurologist may be your best bet." He leaned away and saw Will's eyes, fixated on the empty chair across from him. The fixation wasn't normal. Was Will seeing something now?

"You'll go with me?"

"Of course."

"My head hurts...things are so foggy." Will whispered, then lifted a finger. "Is he real?"

Hannibal looked, again, at the empty chair. "No. What do you see?"

"Hobbs. I see...Hobbs. He's there, he has to be." The man was obviously upset to realize that his world wasn't matching with the real one.

"You and I are alone, Will."

"Please don't lie to me." Will's voice broke. "I can't...I can't tell what's real on my own."

That broken vulnerable sound. On anyone else it would be lovely, on Will, well, it was still lovely, but it was horrible at the same time. "He's not there, you came here alone. It's only us."

"I can't do this. I c-can't..."

"We'll make it better." Hannibal got up to grab a couple tools, to try to get an idea of what was happening in Will's brain. "You need to try to stay calm."

"Ha-" Will's voice didn't sound right.

When Hannibal turned, Will was seizing. "Will? Will?" He walked forward and knelt between Will's legs. He cupped his face and looked him over, seeing the whites of his eyes. "You're having a mild seizure." He knew the man might still be able to hear him. Some people couldn't when they had a seizure, but if Will could maybe it would calm him. "You'll have the best help, Will." Oh, this lovely, monstrous illness, whatever it was eating at Will, Hannibal knew he could use it, use it to show Will who he really was. If they could both be who they were...together. What a glorious, beautiful world that would be. The only two real people in the world. The only problem was Will couldn't see himself clearly yet, didn't yet know that he was above all the others, elevated, like Hannibal. "I'm going to show you a beautiful world, Will. You'll finally be free. But first...we need to make sure you're well." He ran his fingers through Will's curls and held him gently, until the man stilled. "Sh...we'll get you back to yourself."

-

Will was up and about sooner than he should have been. That was how he was. Hannibal expected it and also expected him at his door. He did not anticipate the attack of lips on him the second the door closed. It almost awoke some unfortunate instincts, but Hannibal refrained. A lover's attack was different from a normal attack, of course.

"Is this real?" Will asked, serious.

"Very real." Hannibal answered breathlessly before Will claimed his lips again.

They'd had these fights, the fight of lovers. When Will got into one his more feisty moods, Hannibal often indulged it. He frankly didn't care either way, pleasure was pleasure. He'd liked fostering that more assertive, more aggressive side of Will in an environment that Will felt comfortable to be aggressive in.

This time, however, Hannibal would not let Will win the lover's fight. If plans went the way Hannibal intended, this would be their last time together as lovers...until Will saw himself truly, saw the beauty of the monster he thought he was, the monster he ignored. Once Will knew himself there would be nothing greater than that meeting, Hannibal knew it.

He wanted to leave Will knowing, knowing that he'd gotten under his skin, gotten inside of him literally and figuratively. So instead of putting up a mild fight. Hannibal attacked back, met Will with that same passion, that same intensity. He pressed Will into the wall, taking over the kiss.

Will was having none of that. And it made Hannibal smile, feeling that man fight back against him, gain the upper hand. Hannibal let him think he'd won, up until the point where they made it to the bedroom, torn clothes strewn behind them. That was when Hannibal took over, forcing the agent onto the bed, belly first. Before Will could turn over, Hannibal grabbed him by his wrists and pinned him down. He drug his teeth down Will's neck, taking a deep breath of his scent. "This is real, Will. Let me show you how real."

Will fought, struggled only for a moment more, before giving in. So Hannibal made as quick work as he could, getting Will open and pliant.

Hannibal relished the sounds Will made. The man was clinging to the headboard for stability as Hannibal fucked him. Hannibal ran his hands down his torso and pulled on his waist, forcing him back, forcing him to take his cock at a brutal pace.

"Hann..." Will gasped, dropping his head.

That was no good. It took away Hannibal's access to his neck. Hannibal shifted his grip, one hand over Will's heart, the other around his torso, he yanked the man back. Hannibal's torso went flush with Will's back. He scraped his teeth along Will's neck, then licked up behind the shell of his ear. Will tasted delicious in the throes of passion. 

ThumpThumpThump.

Will's heart pounded as he reached back, scrambling for stability. His left hand found Hannibal's hair, his right gripping Hannibal's arm. "Fuck."

"That is the intent." Hannibal laughed, Will let out a short chuckle that was broken by another firm thrust and a needy moan. Hannibal threaded their fingers together, over Will's heart. "This is real." He reminded Will. Will needed to know that this real. He needed this memory, this feeling. "Aš tave myliu."

Will's head arched back. Their eyes met and they shared a kiss as their bodies found a new rhythm together. "P-please. I-I need."

Hannibal smiled and shifted his hand, touching Will right where he wanted. He felt the thrum of Will's heart pump harder, felt his muscles tense, heard the sounds escape from his lips. He sucked on Will's neck. He needed to taste this, it would be the last taste he'd have of Will for a while...if ever.

"AH!"

There was a music in screams, this one was no different. Hannibal bit into the meat of his shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but just enough, enough that Will would remember what his teeth marks looked like on his flesh. As Will's body twitched in pleasure, Hannibal sought his own.

"T-too much." Will whispered, his voice broken.

"Not yet." Hannibal thrust three more times before finding his own pleasure. Marking Will from the inside out. He bit Will again, this time gently, the nape of the neck, where it'd be hidden by those lovely curls. Hannibal removed himself and kissed Will. "Feel real?"

Will's eyes opened sleepily and focused on him. "Yes."

"It is eight thirty. You are in my home...in my bed. You are William Graham."

"And you are Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I'm with you...this is real." His eyes slowly closed. "I love you."

"Yes, beloved. This is real." Hannibal pulled the tired man close, hand over his heart. "Aš tave myliu."

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Hannibal frowned once Will fell asleep in his arms. Will was sick. But once his mind was clear, he'd likely make the connections he'd missed quickly. It was right in front of him. But Hannibal knew Will. Will wasn't yet ready to be true to himself, still afraid of his own mind, still tied down by the world's morals. That meant that Hannibal needed to make himself an alibi... And even he didn't want to make one out of Will.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Such a trusting heart under his hand. Hannibal knew he'd have to be very rude and betray that trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eat the rude. Haha  
> Take care.


	6. It Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More stuff. Because...yeah.

Will walked into the classroom and lifted his briefcase onto the desk. 

"Sir, is it true you're taking a leave of absence?"

Will hated that, when the students talked back. He knew it was part of it. But still, socializing was difficult. Talking at them was easier than answering questions. As it was he hadn't even gotten his things around before they started talking. His head hurt on top of it and the black stag was in the room. He reminded himself it wasn't real before he turned. "Yes, I um, have a medical issue that needs taking care of, nothing urgent, but you'll be in good hands Dr. Bloom is taking over for me during my...absence."

Will had seen something interesting, he didn't know what it was. His eyes searched the room until he saw the folder on his desk. "What...what is this?"

"It's mine, sir." A young woman said from the middle row of seats. "The twenty-five page essay you asked for on the most common occupations of those likely to commit serial murders. I was to write on five of the top ten and five that I thought were possible that weren't listed and back up my theory on evidence."

He tilted his head to the side. "I...forgive me, I don't remember assigning this, Miss Starling."

"It's in your syllabus, if we miss more than three days, I got sick and..." She rubbed her head.

"Oh." Will didn't remember her missing class. The stag walked forward and nudged the folder with it's nose. So, Will opened the folder. It was neat, organized well. He started to skim it. The first five were the ones often talked about: surgeons, law enforcement, chefs, journalists, and CEOs. Her ideas were a bit different. The first one was psychologist. He started reading. It was interesting. He put the folder down, he'd excuse her excessive absences before Dr. Bloom took over. She'd done her work. "Alright." He looked up and jolted back. The stag shifted into the shape of a man with antlers.

Will closed his eyes. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. But... "Wait."

Surgeons, hold the power of life and death.

Chefs, especially professionals, butcher and often have obsessively clean stations. OCD was often associated there too.

Psychologists, like surgeons hold a great power over their patients.

"Everyone be very quiet." He told the students. The room, thankfully, went silent.

He closed his eyes. It all made so much sense. Too much sense. The surgical removal of organs. The cannibalisms maintained in such a clean-obsessively clean-kitchen. The ability to manipulate minds. The close association with the FBI.

Hannibal had looked shocked when he'd confessed his love. He always had a hand over Will's heart. He liked to bite, to leave teeth marks. Will had a few on his skin as he stood there. The way the Ripper started slicing into Will-look-a-likes very soon after. The Ripper was in love and wanted...wanted his lover's heart but couldn't take it. Hannibal had just admitted to his love to Will when bodies started dropping.

The Ripper, no discernable motive...except that one motive. The only motive the Ripper ever showed was a craving for something he couldn't have, a love and a restraint. And Hannibal, the only person who'd ever loved Will, ever seen Will.

"Professor Graham?"

Will bowed his head forward, holding it in his hands. His head hurt horribly. It was too much. It couldn't be, could it? No. He loved Hannibal...so much and Hannibal...he couldn't.

But he had.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was the Ripper and his mind had just been too damn ill and high off love to see it.

"Professor Graham?!"

Will's eyes shot opened and he looked up at his students.

"Are you okay?"

"I... I'm not well enough to teach today. I'm sorry." He reached into his pocket and poured out two pain relievers. How hadn't he seen it? Sure, he was sick, something was wrong with his mind, but to miss THAT? But...everyone else had missed it too. "Go." He dismissed them.

"Hope you feel better, sir." One or two students whispered.

Once the room emptied, Will collapsed by his desk, tears filling his eyes. It was Hannibal, had been him all this time. He didn't know what to think, what to do. It was HANNIBAL...could he even turn him in? Turn in someone he loved? No...he wanted to understand. He needed to understand.

He couldn't understand, not with his brain in the condition it was in.

Will wiped his eyes and got up. He had a plan, at least a short term one.

-

"You came out here to tell me you're leaving?" Jack asked.

"Something's wrong with my head. I should see a neurologist to get treated... So I'm leaving."

"I already knew that, Will."

"I'm not getting treatment here and I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone where I was going." Will said.

"Why?"

Will bit his lip. "I have my reasons."

"Is this about the Ripper? You think he has some sort of knowledge...some sort of in, a way to watch what you're doing?"

"Yes." Will nodded.

"Then don't even tell me where you're going. Because if anyone comes asking, I don't want to be the one to tip them off."

"Thank you, Jack."

Jack nodded, his face concerned. "Get well, Will."

Will sighed and straightened up. "I'll come back with a clear head."

"I hope so." Will nodded. "Once I'm back, I'll bring all the paperwork, so you know where I was." He needed an alibi. Because if he was Hannibal, he'd use Will's sickness to his advantage. He'd turn that unstable mind into an alibi for himself. A clever killer like the Ripper would do that. So Will was leaving, putting his head on straight and having an alibi.

Jack seemed to understand what Will meant by that. "You think you know who it is?"

"I know the Ripper is watching me. I know that much and I don't need anything twisted in my life more than it already is."

"That's fair."

-

Hannibal killed Abigail. Will's mind was still frazzled, still sick. It was the best time to do it, to plant doubt in everyone's mind. A sleeping Will was incredibly easy to ply. Hannibal had seen Will sleep on his own and it was fitful, but next to Hannibal, he slept like a lamb. He got around everything he would need. He didn't want to hurt Will, not at all, but the clever man would figure it out and he'd need an alibi. If Will was his alibi, then in the end the Ripper would be Will's alibi. It would never end with Will being lost. Hannibal wouldn't allow that.

He loved Will, he needed him.

But Will's car wasn't in the driveway at his home.

Hannibal made sure no one was around, then he went up to the house. The dogs didn't bark. They weren't there. Why weren't they there? Something was wrong. Hannibal hurried into the house. It wouldn't be wrong. Will wouldn't be confused if Hannibal showed up in the middle of the night. A concerned lover wasn't suspicious...he could play it off easily. But...Will wasn't there. Hadn't been home in over a day by the look and smell of it.

Hannibal pulled open a drawer and paused. There were clothes missing. Will had packed and left. A single note was left in place of a few pair of missing shirts. It was addressed to the Chesapeake Ripper.

'Ripper,

I am not home, but if you're reading this, my suspicions are confirmed. I know you watch me and how you watch me. I know you. Don't come looking for me right now, or I'll kill you on sight. Because I will see you now. The scales have fallen from my eyes.

-William'

"William..." Hannibal whispered. "He knows." 

Will Graham had figured it out. Even with encephalitis clouding his mind, giving him headaches and seizures and blackouts and fucking his mind up in general...Will Graham had figured him out. What a clever boy.

Yet, Will hadn't turned him in. Was it because he had no evidence or because he was looking inward, seeing what Hannibal knew was in him?

Either way, Hannibal pocketed the note. Then he closed his eyes. He wished, for a moment that he could hear the thrumming of Will's heart. It would certainly do well to calm him. His own heart was pounding. Would Will leave him now? Was Will too caught up in morals to be with him? To become who he truly was with Hannibal?

Hannibal took a few deep breaths. There was nothing he could do now, except play his usual role. If Will turned on him, he'd have no evidence to back his claims. While Jack Crawford valued Will's opinions, he'd never arrest someone with no evidence. And Hannibal made sure that he was spotless. 

Well...he did have an ear to get rid of, but that was easily done.

-

Will, lay in the bed. An IV was placed in his arm. They said they'd have him on anti-viral meds for a short time, they'd also have him on fluids. Bed rest, according to the doctor, was a must. And Will had warned him that his body just didn't know how to sleep anymore, so they gave him something to help with that too. Hopefully, it wouldn't last too long. He needed to think about what he was going to do.

He needed to know why. He needed to understand.

His eyes started to drift shut and his eyes strayed to the chair next to the bed. He wished it weren't empty. He was scared that when he fell asleep, the nightmares would come.

Oddly, the only thing he wanted was for Hannibal to be in that chair, to make sure he was safe. But Hannibal was four hundred miles away.

Will closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Abigail is properly dead, no fake out. Really dead.  
> Take care.


	7. It is Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will confronts Hannibal and neither of them expected this. Two in one day is probably too many, can't bring myself to care. Meanwhile, my MCU readers are wondering why they aren't getting the chapters I promised and I'm feeling guilty. I blame Hannibal.

Hannibal had a new patient today. One Mr. Dancy. It was the only thing he was looking forward to. He missed will so much, the idea of having a new brain to pick was pleasant, but oh did he miss Will. He hoped the agent was doing well, getting better. Even with the rude things he'd planned to do, he never really wanted to hurt Will, never wanted to see him harmed.

Hannibal straightened and went to the door opening it up and looking into the waiting room. "Mr..." A ship on the bottle. He could smell the aftershave. He could smell Will. He could also smell that Will was in much better health, perfect health, in fact. "Mr. Dancy?"

Will stood up and turned to look at him. "Dr. Lecter."

Formal name. It was, apparently time to have a talk. He wondered why Will wasn't at his home, rummaging through the basement or trying to gather information. Why wasn't Will with the FBI, telling them what he knew? Hannibal didn't often feel fear, nor did people often confuse him, but Will was different, he'd always had been. "Will, good to see you. I was starting to worry. Jack said you sought treatment, doesn't usually take more than a few day. I was worried something had gone wrong."

"Nothing wrong with me." Will took off his glasses and put them in his pocket. 

Hannibal could feel it and he wondered if other people felt it too. He could feel the weight of Will looking at him, looking at ALL of him. Being fully known was both exhilarating and terrifying. If he didn't love Will so much, he might try to kill him for causing so much fear. "I'm glad you're well. I had an appointment for this hour, I don't believe he's arrived. Unless that was you?"

Will didn't answer the question. "I'd like to speak in your office, if you don't mind."

"My door is always open to you, Will." Most people wouldn't walk past a serial killer, leaving their back uncovered and vulnerable, if they knew they were walking past one. Will wasn't most people. He walked right through the door. He didn't even look over his shoulder, just cast a side glance at Hannibal as he past him, then went right to his normal seat. Hannibal smiled and closed the door. "I am so glad you're feeling better, Will. You do look well."

"Mm."

Hannibal crossed the room almost to his desk. He knew that Will knew he kept a scalpel at his desk, but Will didn't ask him to sit down or step away. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, William?"

"You genuinely are happy that I'm well, aren't you?" Will sounded a little surprised.

"Of course I am, beloved. I only ever want you to be well." Hannibal nodded, leaning against his desk.

Will's eyes narrowed. "But that wasn't going to stop you from using it against me, was it, Ripper?"

Hannibal smiled gently. "A man in my position, you must understand. A good alibi is hard to pass up."

"To be fair, it would be easy. I heard you killed Abigail. Were you going to claim I got into a killer's mind so deep that I stepped out and finished his work? It's a good plan, easy, and with how frazzled my mind was I'm not sure I would have been able to disprove it myself. Very clever. But for a man who claims to love me, you're awfully quick to turn on me." Will said and there was a sting of betrayal in his voice, just a small bit.

"I don't claim. I do. And I wasn't going to leave you there. They'd arrest you for the crime of course, but do you imagine the trial would continue if the Ripper continued to strike? They can't convict you if the killer's at large."

Will scoffed. "So I was to be your alibi and you were to be mine."

"Tied like a bow. Temporary hurts for long lasting effect." Hannibal said. "You doing remarkably well at holding eye contact, Will."

"I'm watching for lies." Will leaned back in his seat, resting his hands on the arms of the chair.

"I applaud you." Hannibal nodded.

"I know who you are, I know what you've done." Will's eyes strayed to the desk for a second, then flicked back up at Hannibal. "Why not take that and kill me? It wouldn't be outside the Ripper's MO. He's already shown that he wants to kill me."

Hannibal lifted the scalpel and turned it in the light. Will didn't even flinch. "You already know the answer to this question, Will. That's cheap psychology. I can't kill you. And if I were able to, I'd make sure it was far more intimate than this. You deserve better, after all."

"You can't kill me. Why?"

"I've already told you."

"Then tell me again." Will demanded, a frown on his face, his jaw shifting as he grinded his teeth. He kept eye contact. He was still looking for lies.

So Hannibal put the blade down and put his hands on the desk. His posture perfectly open, perfectly readable as he returned the eye contact. "Aš tave myliu." Then he leaned forward. "I love you." He translated. "Though, those words are quite bland in comparison to how I truly feel. They don't describe it all. Words are flat like that."

Will swallowed.

"Tell me, Will. Why aren't I under arrest? You have ample time. I'm sure your little stint in the hospital made for a great alibi yourself. No doubt you've provided evidence to Jack Crawford as to your whereabouts when Abigail died. I'm guessing the hospital had video audio, not to mention testimonies from doctors and nurses. You have an alibi of your own. And I don't have you as an alibi myself. So, why aren't I under arrest? Or...are they ransacking my home now, looking for evidence while you hold my attention entirely? You would be the perfect trap for me."

"No one knows. Just me."

"And why is that, Will?" Hannibal asked.

"I need to understand." Will stood and walked up to Hannibal. "But if I did tell them, what would you do?" Will's eyes flickered down to the blade again.

Hannibal grabbed it and held it out to Will. "If you had a weapon, had me at a disadvantage, what would you do?"

Will took the blade from him and stared at it before looking back up at Hannibal. "I need to understand."

"You already do, you just don't know it. Tell me again, Will. How did it feel to kill Garrett Jacob Hobbs?"

Will's hand shook. "It felt good."

"And tell me, Will. When you LOOK into crime scenes, do you see the killer committing the crimes or are you doing it yourself?"

"I do it."

"Tell me, how does it feel?"

Will bit his lip, his breath coming in uneven rasps. It obviously hurt a great deal to say what he said next. "Wrong."

"Why?" Hannibal pressed. It wasn't just for his good, it was for Will's. He wanted Will to see himself clearly.

"Because they're not MY design." Will barely got the words out

Hannibal smiled gently. "You already know, Will. You always have. You're a mongoose, the killer instinct for the snakes. An avenging angel. You're a killer, just like me."

Will closed his eyes and shook his head. "No."

"You and I are the same. You view yourself as a monster, so you've run from yourself, run so fast and so far. But even you can't ignore what's inside you. You can't unsee yourself. You have nightmares about it."

"What I want is wrong."

"But you admit to wanting it?" Hannibal asked gently, putting his hands on Will's waist, pulling the agent closer, between his legs, their bodies meeting.

"It's wrong."

"No. Being less than yourself is wrong, Will. You and I aren't like the others, Will, you've known it, your whole life. Your empathy has shown you that you aren't quite like everyone else. They're lower."

"It's wrong." Will whispered, tears in his eyes.

"You have a choice, Will. You can catch the Ripper, I've already told you I won't fight back. Or...you can ask me for help." Hannibal leaned forward, rubbing circles into Will's hips with his thumbs. "I can help you understand."

Will closed his eyes.

Hannibal slid his right hand up and rested it over Will's heart, closing his own eyes and feeling the thrum under his fingers. Such a wonderful heart.

"Please?" Will whispered, the knife falling from his hands, clattering on the ground.

In that single plea, Hannibal heard so many questions.

Please show me.

Please help.

Please answer my questions.

Please tell me what you know about me.

Please, set me free. I feel so burdened, so guilty. I don't want to feel like this.

Please. I'm lost.

Please...I think I know who I am...and I'm afraid to look at him alone. Look with me so I'm not alone, please.

Please, love me.

Please, see me.

Please.

"Aš tave myliu." Hannibal pulled Will into a kiss.

Will didn't resist, he fell right into it.

It felt like coming home. Hannibal devoured his lips, tasted his tongue, swallowed his gasps and moans. When they pulled apart, Hannibal pressed gently against his heart. "I'll show you, my love."

Tear fell down Will's cheeks, but they were not tears of sorrow or defeat. Hannibal knew those smells on a person. They were not tears of fear either, they smelled different as well.

These were tears of relief, and Hannibal licked them away, savoring every salty drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd hello Murder Husbands. Woops.  
> Take care.


	8. It Becomes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will murders two people, it is described in normal Hannibal glory. There is also mention of sexual assault of a minor, nothing is described, but the people Will kills are not good people. Please look after yourself. Also, murder sex. That seems to be only a thing in this fandom. What the hell have I joined and when can I go back to the MCU where there's hurt and comfort? (I don't wanna go. I kinda like the dark psychology of this a lot, but it's also a lot... like a lot.)  
> This is messed up. How did I write this? Hannibal comes with it's own warning right? Yowzah.

Hannibal took Will with him, on his next hunt. Will watched, never got in the way, never stopped him. He watched, transfixed and it really was like scales were falling off his eyes. But Hannibal wouldn't know anything, not truly. Not until Will had his own becoming. He couldn't wait to witness it with his own eyes.

-

The sun was shining and everything was bright, open. Will walked down the street. It wasn't a large town, but large enough that strangers were common and ignored. Not everyone knew all their neighbors. That was perfect.

"Not what I expected, when you told me to come along." Hannibal commented.

Will glanced to the side at Hannibal. "You know how hunters are. I know how hunters are...but I'm also a fisherman." Will said.

"Ah, you catch things...it fits, given your career choice."

Will nodded. "It's nice out. Perfect."

"Why?"

"I'm patient. I'm fishing. I'm going to walk, it's busy, I want to see people." Will left Hannibal behind, knowing that the doctor was trailing behind him, stalking him at a safe distance. It wouldn't do to be seen together. They'd stick out more that way. People tended to look at Hannibal, but Will knew himself. He easily blended in, disappeared from view. A good fisherman, like a good hunter, went unnoticed. 

Will walked through the mall, then he leaned back against a wall and pulled out his phone. He didn't call anyone, but he looked like he did, lifting it to his ear. There was a teen girl who caught his eye, she was barely a teen and an older girl was glaring at her.

"You're a liar."

"I'm not." The young one said. "Please, help. No one listens to me."

Will could tell, she wasn't lying.

"Dad said you were a troubled case. Mom says your a compulsive liar. You've got something good here and you're trying to ruin it?"

Will took a breath and closed his eyes. Then he opened them and looked at the young girl. He stared for a moment, learning everything he needed to know before he looked away. He turned and walked away, muttering to his phone. It didn't matter what he said. People picked up bits and pieces of conversations all the time. No one ever truly listened to what a stranger said as they walked by. The interactions were too brief. Too small to pay attention to.

He made his way out and stepped into a corner without a security camera in sight. As expected, Hannibal was already leaning against the corner, waiting for him. "What did you see?"

"Everything I needed to."

"Which girl?"

"Neither." Will said. He'd seen everything he needed to.

"Will I get to see?" Hannibal asked.

Will took a breath. "Yes, but the way I see you, after."

Hannibal smiled, one of his rare real ones. "Okay."

-

Hannibal woke to a noise downstairs. He slowly walked down the stairs, not making a noise. Then he caught the familiar scent of blood, barely covering the smell of aftershave, Will's. He walked into the kitchen and flipped on the lights. "Hello, Will." The man looked beautiful. He was wearing a long, dark coat and black gloves that made his pale skin seemingly glow. A little blood was on his face. He was putting a cooler down on the counter. "What is that?"

"Ween you asked me if I'd searched your house for evidence, I had. Noticed you were low on liver." He tapped the top of the cooler. "Two, on ice."

Hannibal quirked an eyebrow. "Both girls?"

"I'm not telling you. We'll see soon enough." He said.

"Thank you for the gift. Though, I might ask why?" Hannibal asked.

"It's not exactly my design, but it wouldn't do for them to think it was two killers instead of one, would it?" Will asked.

"Clever. Well, I certainly won't waste such a lovely gift." Hannibal walked to the counter and put his hand on top of Will's. "How do you feel?"

Will's eyes closed and he let out a shaky breath. "Alive." His eyes opened and darted from Hannibal's eyes, then to his lips.

"Yes." Hannibal said before Will could ask.

In less than a second, Will was on him.

Hannibal let his hands find Will's hips and their bodies were pulled flush together. "Did it feel good?"

"Yes." Will said before devouring his mouth.

Hannibal smiled into the kiss, savoring the taste of blood on the corner of Will's lips. Will wasn't fidgety like normal, none of his squirming, none of that shy aversion he always had. Hannibal quickly felt himself shoved against the counter. There was something commanding about Will, and it was intoxicating. He could smell his arousal and it sent a lovely shock down Hannibal's spine. Atrocious aftershave and all, Will smelled amazing, and the blood along his cheek and jaw contrasted so lovely against his skin, that blood had a faint smell of fear. Fear that Will had caused.

Hannibal let Will begin to tear off his clothes. He wouldn't normally condone such a thing. The kitchen was a sacred space, only for the art of cooking. It was his workshop, his sacred place. But this once, he'd let Will make use of it. Will was Becoming, of course, that was sacred in itself. Will got his silk nightshirt off of him and Hannibal sighed in pleasure when teeth skimmed at his neck. 

Will's hands worked at Hannibal's pants. Hannibal took the opportunity to dig his hands into Will's curls. Then he turned Will's head and licked at the blood that was on his skin. Hannibal looked Will up and down and that blood on his face was all their was as evidence of his crimes. The rest of him was spotless. Hannibal appreciated that. "Mylimasis, you are beautiful. Stunning."

"Stop talking." Will claimed his lips again and their tongues danced. Will's hands easily pulled Hannibal's underwear off.

Hannibal felt at a disadvantage, completely bare while Will was still dressed. But those leather gloves felt wonderful against his shoulders, then the leather covered right hand wrapped around his throat. "William..." He gasped breathlessly, loving the feeling. If he'd known Will's Becoming would lead to this, he would have tried to talk to Will about this sooner. With one arm around him, the other still on his throat, Will bodily lifted Hannibal up onto the counter.

Oh, it would have to be cleaned. Hannibal thought, but then promptly forgot what he was thinking when Will forced his legs up onto the counter and ducked down to lick down his torso. Those leather gloved hands spread him wide. The sensation made him shiver. "Dieve, taip. Daugiau prašau." He pleaded. Only Will could do that. It made Will unique. He was the only one who could make Hannibal plead.

Will kissed the inside of his thigh. The cheek grazed his thigh, his beard created a lovely friction. The doctor arched, still being held open, spread out, held by strong arms. The agent used his mouth to start opening him.

"Will." Hannibal clutched, one hand around the edge of the counter, the other in Will's hair. Will was a kind, generous lover. Always had been. Hannibal mourned when a glove came off and bare fingers began to work him open. Those leather gloves were wonderful against his skin. He didn't want slow. He wanted Will to do what he craved, to have him the way he obviously wanted to. He just needed to give Will permission. "Will, fuck me."

Will pilled his mouth away, kissed up a thigh toward Hannibal's knee. "Not ready." he breathed, scissoring two fingers inside of Hannibal.

Hannibal groaned at the lovely stretch. He knew taking Will so soon would be painful, would burn. He wanted it that way. "I am. Please. Have me."

Will searched his eyes, apparently making sure he wasn't lying, before he lifted his gloved hand, burring it in Hannibal's hair and pulling him into a searing kiss.

Hannibal could taste himself, but better yet, he could taste Will. He groaned when he felt Will's fingers leave him and heard the buttons of his coat come undone. Will lost the coat in short order, but didn't undress further, save for freeing his hard, weeping length from his trousers. Hannibal drank the sight of him in. He looked beautiful, like an avenging angel would. 

Will didn't waste time before taking him. And it ached, but it felt so good. Will's ungloved hand found Hannibal's hair, his gloved hand found Hannibal's neck and that was near enough to set the doctor off. That hand...had it strangled a victim? Had that glove known death? It was a glorious feeling. Hannibal wrapped his legs around Will, taking him deeper, meeting him in his brutal, lovely pace.

Between kisses, Hannibal licked at Will's jaw. The blood really needed to be cleaned. It wouldn't do for their to be evidence...and Hannibal loved the tasted against Will's skin. He used Will's perfect, grabbable curls to tilt his head, to get rid of the blood. Those curls, he could have his fingers in them for hours. So soft, so perfect for grabbing. So lovely.

Though, he wasn't sure anything could detract from the taste of Will's skin. It was perfection. He made sure to clean all the blood off with his tongue. "Skanus." Hannibal whispered. "Delicious." He translated into Will's ear, gently biting into that soft spot below Will's ear.

Will fucked him harder and in three, brutal thrusts, spilled into Hannibal. His gloved hand squeezed around Hannibal's throat and Hannibal spilled, untouched, over his own torso.

Really, he'd have to clean the kitchen.

-

After they'd settled, been thoroughly cleaned of any incriminating evidence, and Hannibal had invited the sated agent to his bed, he combed his fingers through those curls. "Two rules, mylimasis."

"Yes?"

"That was a one-off, in the kitchen. That is a sacred space."

"Why am I not surprised that you're not up for fucking in the kitchen where you cook your victims?"

Hannibal laughed and kissed Will's throat. "And second...if you ever cut your hair, I'll kill you."

"And then do what?" Will snorted.

Hannibal's hand settled over Will's heart to feel the thump, thump, thump. "Well, I'd start here...but I'd have all of you, I assure you. I'd waste nothing."

"I'd like to cut my hair, just to call your bluff. You can't kill me."

"No more than you could kill me," Hannibal agreed wholeheartedly. He'd never be able to kill Will. "But I would be very upset if you cut your hair. I will be buying you more leather gloves for Christmas, however. You can keep those."

Will laughed, such a lighthearted happy thing. A free laugh.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

-

"Their children found them." Jack said. "Once the police saw the scene, they called us." 

"Why is that?" Will asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose. It was...surprisingly easy to lie. To pretend like he hadn't seen this house or street before. So easy. Like breathing. It felt good. Powerful.

"It looks like it fits the Ripper MO. You'll see." Jack lead Will and Hannibal up to the porch.

Will glanced sideways at Hannibal, before stepping into the house. Bev, Jimmy, and Zeller were on scene, collecting evidence.

Will looked at the bodies. The wife was upright in a chair, eyes glued open. The man was on the couch, naked, face down on the sofa. Blood had dried on the cushions. "The victims have been here several days. How were they just found?"

"Daughter and foster daughter went to spend the weekend at a friend's home. They called this morning when they found them...like this. We already checked, they were in the next county the whole time. They're both missing livers. Surgically removed. I'm thinking Ripper." Jack nodded then gestured for the others to leave. "We'll give you some time. Let me know when you're ready."

Will lifted a gloved hand and pulled off his glasses, closing his eyes. 

He remembered.

'I call the girls away, get them out of the house. Away from the rapist and the voyeur.' Will tilted his head and looked at the man. 'I hop the fence and simply stride in through the unlocked sliding door. You don't bother to lock it, it's a safe neighborhood, you imagine you're the only monster living in it. You're both downstairs, watching the TV in the dark. I go after the man first, a quick jab to disable the vocal cords, then a letter opener to the throat. The blow leaves you unable to move, but I leave it in, so you don't bleed. Your wife doesn't even know what she's witnessed yet. She tries to scream, I choke her. She struggles, but it's useless. I don't let her pass out. While she's gasping, a simple prick the neck, her paralysis is induced with a needle, easy.

'I situate her first. She does like to watch. I know this, because I could see her. I painstakingly glue her eyes open. Nice and wide. She's watching everything I do now, my witness, just as she witnessed what you did to the foster children that came into your home." Will crouched in front of the man. 'I take my time, slice you, just enough that you feel every hurt they must have. You're wide awake when I start feeding your manhood to you. You don't deserve it. You know it and I do too. I have your blood on my face. I cover your mouth and nose and force you to swallow it. You're still aware when I take your liver for Hannibal.' Will nodded. "Then I took the letter opener from your throat and you die, choking on your blood and your sin. Perhaps I am an avenging angel.

'Then there's you.' Will looked at the wife. 'You watched, you got off on his crimes. So you got it worse, but I didn't expect you to be used to drugs. You started to move, to fight. Couldn't have that. Three stabs, didn't damage the liver, needed that. But they weren't quick stabs, just enough to put you back in your place, put you back so you could watch. I made you watch me take your liver. A knife wasn't right for you...so I wrapped my hand around your throat. And you stared, wide-eyed. You stared at your dead husband and you stared at me, until your eyes were empty as your lungs. This is MY design.'

Will looked around one last time and slipped on his glasses. Then he walked out the front door. He fidgeted. "Uh, ye-yeah, looks like the Ripper to me too." He nodded to Jack. "Brutal, efficient, he laid them out. He took their organs from them while they were still alive. These people were....pigs to him, beasts, not human. It...it fits the MO."

Jack sighed and nodded. "I was afraid of that. Now he's killing them two at a time."

"Plus, he humiliated the man." Bev said, raising her hand. "Forced cannibalism."

Jack and Hannibal's eyes widened. "What did the Ripper make the man eat?" Hannibal asked.

"...his own genitalia." Bev said after a moment. "Considering the piece of flesh I found in his teeth and...the Ken doll...ness of the victim."

"Personal vendetta? Do you think this guy was a rapist? Is the Ripper going vigilante on us?" Jimmy asked, confused.

"Maybe it's in his history." Hannibal suggested. "Maybe the killer was once violated and when he saw it happening, it spurred him to take...extra care of this victim."

"Perhaps. Seemed angry enough." Will nodded. He'd have to talk to Hannibal. He knew the question behind that statement. He could tell Hannibal wanted to know if Will had a personal vendetta against rapists. Will didn't like them, to be sure, but Hannibal didn't need to think he needed to start killing people from Will's past. Will'd been touched against his will, he knew that violation, but no one had ever touched him sexually against his will. Touch in general wasn't something Will liked unless he had some form of control, some form of trust.

"I'll interview the girls, see if he...hurt either of them." Jack shook his head, obviously upset. "Thank you, Will."

Will nodded. The others dispersed, except for Hannibal.

"Elegant." Hannibal whispered. "That is what I wanted to show you, Will. And what do you think?"

"It's beautiful...and finally my design." Will whispered back. Something lifted, like he'd gone to confession and rid himself of all guilt, of all sin. Hannibal had been right.

This is who he was...and he'd Become.

"Beautiful." Hannibal whispered with a quiet, happy smile, one that was rare and glorious. "My angel...mylimasis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.


	9. Dinner and Dessert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this was going to be a little in-between chapter with a bit of story to move forward...but then Hannibal got upset by missing dessert and porn happened. How did this happen? I don't know if these two want to kill each other, eat each other, or fuck each other more. (In my head, Will shrugged and Hannibal smirked.) I'm going to bathe in holy water now. I need it. If anyone wants to get on the bus to hell with me I'll be the designated driver.  
> (Seriously, why do these two make me do this?)

There were...complications to their new, glorious life. They'd had the discussion. Things were set in motion if either of them were discovered...or if they were both discovered. They couldn't be seen together, no more than would normally be permissible for their friendship. That part bothered Hannibal. He wished that he could see Will every day, keep him close. But it wasn't conducive to keeping their secrets. Moments like this were glorious to Hannibal. They could hunt together and have this, but it was rare, they had to keep their tracks covered, so to speak.

Hannibal caught his breath, but didn't remove his weight from Will. Will's head fell forward against his shoulder, gently.

"I'm going to have really weird bruises." Will whispered, breathless.

"Worth it?" Hannibal asked.

"For now, but next time, let's try the desk, or God forbid, one of the chairs. I'm going to have rung-shaped bruises all down my back."

"You're the one who looked like a god leaning up against it like that. Couldn't expect me to ignore such a siren call, now could you?" Hannibal laughed and leaned back, pulling Will with him until they were laying across the chaise lounge, Will's body on top of his. He gently rubbed at Will's back, though, in part he hoped there were bruises by tomorrow.

"Far be it from you to resist temptation." Will whispered, kissing his neck.

Hannibal exposed more of his throat to Will and sighed happily at the gentle drag of teeth against him. "Never resist something so beautiful, Will. It isn't good for you."

"What would you have done if I resisted?"

"I would have done whatever it took to show you that beauty." Hannibal said, honestly. There was no need to lie to Will now. They saw each other, knew each other. "Even if I had to hurt you, I would make sure you knew."

"And if I refused?"

Hannibal smiled and trailed his hands down Will's back. "I would have pursued you more thoroughly. Would you have killed me, Will?"

"If it came to it." Will said.

"Have you imagined killing me?" Hannibal asked.

"Yes." Will whispered, lifting his head and looking down at Hannibal.

"How?"

Will's lips twitched, down. As if the thought bothered him.

"Tell me your design, Will." Hannibal pressed.

"It makes me sad, thinking of it. I don't think...I could."

"But if you did, what would it be?" Hannibal asked.

Will lifted a hand and brushed Hannibal's hair off his forehead. "Intimate. I used to think that when I caught the Ripper I'd shoot him or stab him. Then...it was you and I thought ropes or a knife to the throat but... No. I'd have to do it with my hands." Will said, his eyes wide, his heart pounding in his chest, Hannibal could feel it where it was pressed to his.

ThumpThumpThumpThump.

The thought distressed Will, Hannibal could tell by that heartbeat, because Will could kill without his heartrate changing, but the thought of killing Hannibal made his heart pound, and his eyes water slightly. Hannibal felt much the same, no matter how he'd want to consume Will in every imaginable way, the thought of ending that brilliant life hurt.

"It would be like this. The two of us...tangled together. I wouldn't want you to die any other way." Will whispered, lowering his head again, kissing Hannibal's throat. "I'd make love to you. I'd take you the highest you'd ever been. I'd make you see heaven before I sent you there."

Hannibal groaned and if he were a younger man he'd be hard again. 

"I'd kiss you as you came, my hand would grip your throat. You'd think at first I was clutching for balance as I sought my own release. You wouldn't know what was coming. Then I'd tighten my hand and you would know. I wouldn't crush you, just steal your breath away as I continued to have you."

"Do you think I would fight, Will?" Hannibal asked. If it were up to him, he would surrender to Will's design. Though, Hannibal wasn't sure if his body could resist the fight or flight that would occur in such a moment.

"I don't know, would you?"

"I would hope not." Hannibal said truthfully. "Would you finish first or would you wait for my death before you finished inside me?"

"You'd be dead, just by a few seconds. Your mind would still be their. You'd still be able to hear me when I finished taking my pleasure from you. You'd hear me tell you I love you before you finally slipped away."

Hannibal shivered. "What a lovely design. I'd be honored."

"I couldn't do it." Will said, kissing his shoulder. "Then I'd lose you."

"I've had similar thoughts about you, Will. Such a beautiful design I'd have for you...but then I'd lose you." Hannibal kissed Will's curls gently. His hand found the spot on Will's back, right behind his heart. 

"If you outlive me, you're going to have my heart, aren't you?"

"Of course I will, mylimasis. I'd have all of you. Except, then I'd truly be a cannibal."

Will laughed and ruffled his hair. "What did you call breakfast this morning if not cannibalism?"

"It is only cannibalism if you're equals." Hannibal whispered. "That was pork, this morning, my dear. You...you would be my equal. But I wouldn't waste a single piece of you..."

"I'm flattered." Will sighed and relaxed against him.

Hannibal pulled him closer. It was interesting, hunting, killing with Will. Will didn't go after the rude or any other such sinner the way Hannibal did. He always went after the ones with deep sins, theft, murder, assault, sexual violence - only those. Truly he was a mongoose hunting snakes. Hannibal wouldn't have it any other way, really. Will would be an avenging angel and Hannibal would happily be the devil at his side. Still, Will never protested Hannibal's choices, he'd even help, but Will's own choices were always in those who'd done great wrongs.

They just had to be careful.

Times like this were rare. Hannibal held on to every moment when he and Will could be together. But it couldn't be always be killing and eating and lovemaking, as much as he wished it. They had to remain separate, safe. If one of them got caught, it was easier if they weren't suspected to be working together. No one would know or suspect them of being lovers. If something happened to one of them, they always had each other to get out of it, that way.

Hannibal kept one hand on Will's back, but lifted his other hand slowly so he could play with his curls. "Dievinu tave, William."

Will closed his eyes and pressed closer. "What does that mean?"

"That I adore you." Hannibal whispered. He didn't think that he'd ever feel like this about anyone ever again. But Will seemed to be the exception to almost every rule Hannibal had ever had. "I'm thinking of having a dinner party."

"Well, the pantry's stocked."

"Mm...thought it could be a nice...celebration, for your becoming. I'll make you something lovely. An eight course meal. We could have our friends over."

Will smiled. "You've done this before. It wasn't just me. What does it feel like? Sitting at that table?"

"You should feel for yourself." Hannibal grinned.

-

Will leaned back in his chair, he gently sliced through the 'turducken.' He felt Hannibal's eyes on him, expectant. Will glanced sideways at him before lifting the fork and taking a bite. The meats were cooked to perfection. Seasoned beautifully. "Compliments to the chef." Will commented, pressing his glasses further up his nose.

"Thank you, Will." Hannibal said, lifting his wine glass, taking a whiff and then a sip.

"Agreed. This is amazing." Jack said. Everyone was there. Jack. Alana. Bev. Zeller. Price.

Will understood it now, the lavish dinner parties Hannibal had. Because he felt powerful and good. Part of him knew it was twisted, but he'd provided for these people. He'd hunted and killed, bloodied his hands for them. They didn't know. They had no idea, but they were pleased and fed because of him, because of him and Hannibal. That was...wonderful. 

"The art has changed." Alana pointed out. "It was Leda and the Swan. I don't know what that one is."

"Keen eye, Alana." Hannibal nodded. "It is Patroclus."

"Who? I'm not familiar." Alana asked.

"The Illiad, right?" Bev asked after taking a drink of wine. "Patroclus totally had the hots for Achilles. Or the other way around, who knows? They fought together. When Patroclus was killed Achilles rained holy hell on everyone."

"And you remember this how?" Zeller asked.

"It was the first piece to show me literature wasn't boring. I mean...all that subtext." She said with a wink.

Jack scoffed. "I don't need to know, Bev."

"I think that they wished the Greeks were dead, so they could take on Troy alone. Rain hellfire on it. They probably would have, had they communicated better."

"Yeah, I mean, they get on the same page and they would rain down hellfire. Would have been hot." Bev smirked. 

Will glanced at Hannibal and smiled. Achilles and Patroclus...well, at least he and Hannibal were on a similar page. Maybe they could bring down Troy on their own...with just each other. Will jolted when he felt a foot stroke the back of his calf.

"You alright?" Zeller asked.

"Mm? Yes. Just got my head in the clouds, as usual." Will said before returning to his meal. It'd be rude not to have every bite. It was delicious and he and Hannibal worked hard on it.

"I hate to steer things back to work." Jack said, somewhere in the middle of the fifth course. "But the Ripper's...latest victim. I couldn't help but notice the resemblance again."

"It didn't get past me either." Will said, taking his glasses off, fidgeting as he cleaned them. This one had been an accident. It just so happened that the racist had blue eyes and brown hair. Oops.

"How are you holding up?" Bev asked.

"About as w-well as you could expect." Will shrugged.

Alana put down her fork and knife. "I've been thinking about this. I think... This obsession he has with you. You said that the Ripper was killing your 'doubles' to refrain from killing you. I think I understand it." Alana said.

"Oh? What's your insight?" Hannibal asked.

"Well, think about it. Think about Will's profile of the Ripper. This is a person who feels above everyone else, elevated. It has to be extremely isolating. I think his obsession with Will or love, if that's what it could be called, stems from being seen. We've all looked at the Ripper, tried to figure him out." Alana looked up at Will. "But you see him. Being seen is powerful. Being known. That could be the reason for his...attentions."

"Great. Loving my empathy. My look-alikes must be pleased." Will sighed. Alana was good, Will had to make note of it. That was part of the equation, sure, but he and Hannibal had more than just knowing each other to keep them tied together. "It's...sound logic."

"Do you think Will's in danger?" Jack asked. "I could pull you from the case."

"I doubt Will will be targeted, at least not lethally. If Alana's perception is truth, why would the Ripper kill the one person who sees him?" Hannibal asked.

"To prove he's better?" Bev suggested. "This guy feels superior. He may kill Will just to prove it. Maybe you should ease off some of the Ripper murders."

Jack frowned. "We'll play it by ear."

Will nodded. And wasn't that nice? Hannibal's expression of love and longing gave Will a wonderful alibi. Now he just had to make sure Hannibal remained free of suspicion. Maybe they could burn Troy to the ground after all... together.

Will excused himself before the seventh course. He made an excuse about his dogs missing him. He didn't want to be seen as the last one at Hannibal's house. Their interactions had to be a bit more limited, at least in the eyes of others.

He wouldn't go too far though. He wanted to say a proper goodnight before he went home.

-

The floor creaked. Hannibal blinked and put the dish in the cupboard. "You left before dessert. That was very rude. I worked very hard on that."

"I apologize for my rudeness." Will responded.

Hannibal relaxed when Will's arms wrapped around him and he sighed as Will's torso pressed to his back. "You know, I eat the rude."

"I do recall that, had some very rude people for dinner today. Must say that they were much better for dinner than they would have been as dinner guests."

"Hmm." Hannibal grinned than tilted his head to the side. It had the desired effect, because Will kissed his neck.

"Thank you. It was beautiful."

"You're welcome. But it really was quite rude of you to leave. I was upset, couldn't eat my own dessert...and you missed yours."

"I'm sorry." Will said, but didn't sound too sorry. "Covers to keep and all that. How can I apologize for my rudeness?"

Hannibal turned and smiled, kissing Will, his hands cupping the agent's neck. "I can think of a way..."

Will's eyes widened, his lips twitched toward a smile.

"Help me clear the dining room table?" Hannibal asked, grinning when he saw Will's face fall.

Will went though, easily.

Hannibal grinned and followed the agent. There wasn't much left to clear up, but it could wait. He just needed Will out of the kitchen. There were rules about the kitchen, after all. Will went to grab the plate left, as planned, at the head of the table. When Will bent forward to grab the plate, Hannibal grabbed the knife he'd hid in his jacket. Easy as breathing, like Will didn't see it coming, Hannibal attacked.

He held down the profiler against the table, forced him down.

Will's hands scrambled, but Hannibal put his knife to the back of his neck and pinned his arm down. "Ah!" Will huffed, but then he went still, feeling the cold blade against his neck.

"You were very rude, Will." Hannibal felt his perfectly pressed trousers grow tight as he looked down on Will. "Do you know what I do to the rude, William?"

Will shivered, then tried to throw him off.

Hannibal laughed and pressed the knifes into Will's neck, a thin line of blood beaded on his neck. "Ah, ah, ah. Be good. Any more rudeness out of you, and...well, you know what I can do with my knife."

Will went still under him, his breath hitching.

Hannibal held both of Will's wrists in one hand and leaned down, taking a deep breath. Will didn't smell like fear. Any normal person would, but no, not his Will. Underneath that horrible aftershave, there was arousal. Hannibal grinned and licked the single droplet of blood that threatened to roll away. "I'm hungry. Do you know why, Will?"

"Hm?"

"I was distracted, and I didn't get to have my dessert, because of you." Hannibal whispered in his ear. "I'm hungry, Will and you...really were so rude. What do you think I should do about that?" He bit into the soft flesh of Will's ear.

The agent struggled, fighting, but he wasn't fully into it. "Hannibal-"

"Should I have your ear? Soft...tender. Maybe a kidney. A sweet sauce...yum." Will could live without a kidney, Hannibal wouldn't take it, but he knew that Will knew he could live without one. The threat wasn't real, but it was one. 

Will shifted.

"I'm going to devour you, Will. You owe me that, in reparation for my missing dessert." 

"Hannibal...please." Will whispered the plea.

"Move an I'll ruin you." Hannibal kept the knife to his throat and let go of Will's hands. He undid his own belt with one hand and tied Will's hands together, then he forced the agent onto his back, pressing the knife to his throat. "If you aren't a good boy, I'll slice you open...see if you're pretty on the inside too." Hannibal sliced Will's shirt open. Then he slid a hand down the lovely pale flesh that was revealed. "You would be a feast." Then Hannibal got an idea, one better than he'd intended. "I'll make a feast out of you." He promised, delighting in how Will shivered under him. "And if you're very, very good, you can have dessert too."

"Hannibal..." Will whispered breathlessly.

Hannibal wanted to kiss those lips, the ones darkening as Will bit them. But he wasn't going to. Instead, he sliced off Will's pants, licking the small cut he left in Will's thigh on purpose. "Delicious. You know, there is a dessert made with blood...yours would be perfect for it. I'd make sure it was sweet with lust when I took it. Sanguinaccio dolce." Hannibal licked the wound clean. Knife resting easily over Will's chest, Hannibal reached up his free hand and offered two fingers to Will. "A rude boy like you doesn't deserve this, but you'll want to get those good and wet, Will."

Will groaned and sucked the two fingers down eagerly.

Hannibal felt his whole body shiver. Will was beautiful as he sucked, licked, and nibbled at those fingers. When Hannibal removed them, they weren't as wet as he knew Will was capable of. He raised an eyebrow at Will.

"I was rude." Will acknowledged with a small smirk.

"And you'll pay for that. And by the end of this, I'm sure you'll apologize." Hannibal smirked back. His lovely Will, always so full of surprises. He took Will into his mouth and let his wet fingers work their way into Will. It was a little faster than he normally would do, but Will seemed to want it a little rougher. He found that little pleasure center in Will and attacked it relentlessly. 

Will looked so beautiful, squirming and flushed with pleasure.

He looked so innocent and lovely, a proper feast. But he didn't know Hannibal's plans for him. He was going to milk Will dry of every last drop in retaliation for the missed dessert.

Hannibal'd always preferred his dessert to be bitter sweet, after all.

-

The pleasure eventually turned to a pleasured torture. Hannibal didn't let up, savoring him even after his cock had gone limp. The overstimulation was damn near too much. Tears rolled down Will's cheeks. "Hannibal, I c-can't."

"There is still some yet for you to give, William, or would you deny me my dessert a second time?" Hannibal asked, lifting his mouth.

And somehow, there was more. A small dribble of white fluid from the tip. Hannibal just kept coaxing it from him. Will's body shook out of his control. It hurt so much, it felt so good. It was a sweet torture. "Please..."

"What did you say?" Hannibal asked, then wrapped his lips around Will again.

"UUUNG! Ah, AH!"

Th knife was somewhere on the floor, forgotten once Will's body had started jerking of its own accord. Will was thankful, or else he'd probably have a smile scar across his stomach for the rest of his life. "Please, I'm... I can't." Will's eyes rolled back when Hannibal's fingers pressed into his prostate. He wasn't sure who was screaming then...well, it had to be him, Hannibal's mouth was occupied. "Hurts..." He could say a word and it would stop, Will knew that. Hannibal and Will always had a way out of these things...but Will wasn't sure he wanted it to end...such sweet torture.

"I think you've given your last drop." But Hannibal didn't let up.

"Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Hannibal gave him a smile that was all teeth. "Good boy." He kissed his thigh gently, then removed himself from Will's tortured sex.

"I'm sorry." Part of Will wanted to never get between Hannibal and his dessert again...the other part always wanted to be made into dessert for Hannibal.

"I forgive you." Hannibal climbed up and kissed his tears away, gently cupping his head. "Are you alright, mylimasis?"

"Y-yes. Hurt, but...felt good."

Hannibal gently stroked his jaw. "Such a good boy."

"May I have dessert?" Will asked, glancing down at Hannibal's tented trousers.

Hannibal grinned and reached up to undo the belt around Will's wrists.

"No." Will said. "It's okay...like this. I trust you." Will knew this was insane, crazy. Letting anyone climb above you and have their way with your throat while pinning down your tied arms. Allowing yourself to be used and defenseless. That was stupidity, craziness. It was stupid to be that vulnerable with anyone. Stupider still to let a serial killer and cannibal pin him down and use his mouth.

But, Will thought, it couldn't be worse than letting a cannibal give him a blowjob so...

"Will. Be with me."

Will hadn't realize his mind had come off the rails started thinking too hard.

"Am I not enough, love?"

Will groaned as Hannibal pressed forward, until his throat was stuff. His thoughts were forced to stop. His eyes opened and he looked up at Hannibal, his eyes watering as he stared up at that beautiful man above him.

"That's better." Hannibal nodded and groaned as he took Will.

Will loved every second of it. Best dessert he'd had in his life, he didn't waste any of it.

"Will, William? Are you alright?" Hannibal was off him, cradling his head gently.

"Yes."

"Got carried away, my dear. Sorry. I just...wanted you so much."

"I thought you were going to punish me. That was a treat."

Hannibal snorted. "Well, there is more than one way to eat the rude." He untied Will's arms and massaged them. "Okay?"

"Mmhm."

"Can you stand or should I carry you, mylimasis?"

"I'm Jello."

"I figured." Hannibal snorted.

Will felt small but safe when those arms lifted him up. "I should disturb your dinner more often."

"Please do." Hannibal purred, kissing his forehead. "And frankly, I'd like to see how to irritate you too."

"Or you could just ask, like a normal person. I didn't mean to irritate you on purpose."

"I know," Hannibal grinned.

"I shouldn't stay..."

"You intended to, or you'd be home with your dogs, my dear." Hannibal laughed. "I'll wake you so you can get home in time."

"Okay." Will pressed closer. "Your fridge must have emptied a bit."

"It did."

"I have a business card in my wallet for you."

Hannibal's smile grew, all teeth. "Of course, my love. We'll talk about that after you rest. Not sure either of us are up for that tonight."

Will nodded and closed his eyes. He didn't remember making it to Hannibal's bed, he was asleep before they got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.


	10. It Plays a Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This relationship is so horrible and abusive and awful, but sweet and interesting at the same time. I can't not.  
> And yes, those coordinates are accurate because I'm a moron who does research and they are roughly right between Baltimore and Wolf Trap, almost like I was planning that or something.  
> There's something wrong with me. It's fine. I'm fine. (I'm not.)  
> I hope you like this one, I had fun with it.

Jack leaned back in his chair. What was happening? The Ripper kills were growing in number. Becoming far more artistic. Gift wrapped, as Will had said. Was this a show of the killer's obsession with Will? Was he trying to communicate with Will? Trying to pull the profiler into the dark games he played? If he was..it could be an interesting angle. Jack could dangle Will in front of the Ripper, give the Ripper what he wanted and maybe catch him in the process.

He just needed Will in on it.

-

Will blinked up at Jack. "What?"

"You heard me, Will."

"So you... A serial killer is writing me bloody valentines and you want me to what? Write him poetry?"

"In a manner of speaking." Jack said, pushing the case file forward. "Tell me. What do these latest crime scenes tell you. What is he telling you?"

Will looked down, two of the six kills in front of him were his own, but they'd all been attributed to the Ripper. They were getting more beautiful, one after the next...well, beautiful in a bloody way. "He sees them as pigs. He isn't just killing what he deems below him, he's lifting them. Turning them into art. He is elevated even what he believes is below him. He wants me to see beauty in what he does." Will put his fingers on his own two kills. "He targeted criminals and called them out on it. Pulled back their skin and revealed who they were. He's showing me that he's like me, he can see into the hearts and minds of people, good and bad. In his mind we're...the same. He rids the world of his lessers just the way I help catch criminals. He sees into people and finds comfort in knowing I can too."

Jack smiled and nodded. "It's a courtship. He wants to know you and you to know him, right? That's what Dr. Lecter said."

"It's a very sound analysis. But what would you have me do?"

"I don't know yet, but...if he wants to talk to you...it'd be the first person he'd willingly contact. You might be able to find him out by playing his game."

Will took a deep breath and took off his glasses, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not sure I want to go that deep into this one."

"Will, it's perfect, you'd be ideal bait."

"I already am, apparently." Will tapped the pictures and shoved them back at Jack. "This shows that. Do you really want me walking into that darkness. This man may never let me walk back out again."

"We won't let you go that deep. But we need to do something...and right now, you're our best lure. And...aren't you a fishermen?"

Will looked down. "I suspect you haven't asked Alana or Dr. Lecter about this?"

"I wanted your opinion first." Jack shrugged.

Will looked down at the artful pictures. "He'll know if I'm lying to him. He'll see it."

"Then don't." Jack stated. "We'll figure it out as we go. What do you think is a good way to speak back to him?"

"News. He reads tabloids." Will sighed. "I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this. It's...it's wrong."

"But you know you're our best shot to stop this monster, Will. We can do this. We just need to think of how to start this."

-

Will looked over the latest kill. He hadn't told Hannibal the plan, Jack hadn't told anyone. Will wanted to play this out, see what Hannibal would actually do when Will started responding to the love letters. Jack and Will stood together at the morgue. He'd have to do this subtly, so normal readers wouldn't suspect anything, but so that Hannibal would know instantly.

"Got any ideas?" Jack asked.

"I need a detail...something that would draw his attention. He wants to be seen I need to show him that I see him with a detail only I could know. And he wants me to feel seen so I need to...express curiosity...a hunger to know myself the way he sees me."

"He's expressing obsession or love... Personals?" Jack suggested.

"Yes, but I need to know what to say." Will covered his mouth with his hand. "I can't lie to him or he'll know. I have to be honest, but it has to look normal and it needs to prove who I am. Miss Lounds doesn't know about this one, right?"

"Not a peep. No news on it."

Will looked down. "Well, we only found half of him." Will sighed. "'Title: Looking for Missing Half. Curious to meet an artist who can turn the ordinary into the extraordinary.' No. He wouldn't like that. He...doesn't see them as 'ordinary,' I know that, it comes off false... 'Title: Looking for Missing Half. Curious to meet an artist who can elevate the dull. Curious as to the nature of art and its expression. Wanting to understand my own Form.' We need to capitalize Form, it's an element of painting, he'd understand that he's recreated art images before, so he'd get it. He thinks I'm like him so this may lead him to speak back."

"Should you sign it with your name?"

"No, then it would be too easily traced. If I were trying to truly see 'the other side' I wouldn't want my coworkers at the FBI to know about it. I'd have to be subtle. So before showing my curiosity put down a description of me. Not a physical description. I suspect by now he's seen me, either through pictures or in person. He'd be curious and obsessive if his messages are anything to go by. He probably knows my habits... 'Title: Looking for Missing Half. Teacher and profile painter. Curious to meet an artist who can elevate the dull. Curious as to the nature of art and its expression. Wanting to understand my own Form and elevate it and the subjects.'" Will looked up at Jack.

"That's..."

"A lure." Will said. "I'm sure you can cast it?"

"Yes. That's...damn. You're brilliant."

"No, brilliant suggests light. There's no light in the mind I'm delving into." Will said it, but it wasn't true. Hannibal's mind was the definition of brilliant.

"I'll make sure it 'prints.'" Jack nodded. "Thank you...I know it can't be comfortable."

"Being bate for a serial killer that's already murdered and consumed men who look like me? Comfortable isn't even a factor. But it never was before...so why should that matter now?" Will shrugged and headed for the door.

-

Will had to smile just a few days later. Hannibal hadn't said a damn word to him. Hadn't hinted at anything. Yet...there was a response in the personals. One that was obviously from Hannibal and addressed to Will.

'Seeking Talented Profile Painter: Sculptor and cook. Capable of making art of the dull. Have a very clear vision of Form and how it shifts. Happy to speak more. If you seek the missing half. Look no further. (392)097-7003'

"What does it mean?" Jack asked. "It's not a phone number, I checked."

"Coordinates. Ten numbers. Five each and I'm guessing the second one is negative or he wouldn't have put the dash in." Will said typing them into the laptop. "Woods, Sunshine, Maryland, next to a reservoir. I'm guessing that's where the missing half to our body is."

"He's talking to you." Jack said in awe.

"Of course he is. He sees me and he feels seen by me, just like Alana said." Will combed his fingers through his hair, messing up his curls.

"Are you alright, Will?"

"Yeah." He stood up. "I should craft a response, after we've seen the body." Then Will froze. "No...I should go there, alone."

"Alone? What if he's watching? You need back up." Jack shook his head.

"He'll smell a trap if you're with me. He said he wants to talk more. He won't risk coming out to speak to me, he hasn't yet. He's patient. Whatever he wants from me he'll wait longer. He'll likely watch me, but he won't approach me. He'll want to see what I do. He wants to know if I'll keep the secret or if I'll call you in to show you the remains."

"And will you...call me in?"

Will leaned against the wall and contemplated. It was fun, playing a game with Hannibal and Jack. Will got to hold all the cards. He and Hannibal knew everything already. Is this how Hannibal had felt this whole time? It felt powerful. He took a steadying breath to control the tremor of adrenalin in his hand. "If I don't go, he'll see it as a rejection. He wants me to see the remains or he wouldn't have told me where it is. It's...a gift. If I go alone it shows that I'm listening to him, that I'm seeing him and I want to see him. From there I have two choices. I can continue to speak to him covertly, which he will see almost as...flirtation or an acceptance of his gift. If I stand there...if I look for a while and then call you in. That would show him that I'm curious but cautious. I've already mentioned I have a problem with Form, it would be in keeping with my character. He'd consider me to be vacillating between you and him, dancing with both of you, in a way. Fighting my inner morality. It would fit what he knows about me to hesitate...then call you."

"And I have no idea about these notes, so I'll have to question you...about how you found the body. I'll have to suspect you."

"Everyone will have to suspect me. I'm undercover now, Jack. You'll have to be skeptical." Will nodded. "He'll watch until I make the call. In the time that I hesitate I'll think of some bullshit connection, a thin one between both halves of the body. One that might be a logical leap but...won't fully hold water. Feel free to be skeptical and if Ms. Lounds is skeptical too, again, it might help." Will almost hoped that she would write something rude about him again. He wondered what Hannibal would do if she was rude to Will again.

"Okay. I'll wait for your call." Jack nodded.

-

Will looked down at the other half to the body...as well as a second body, one that had been killed maybe ten hours earlier. They looked like art. It wasn't unlike Adam reaching out for God's hand. The first victim (who'd been halved) was in the place of Adam. And in the place of God was a second victim who had angular features, not unlike Hannibal. Both nude as the day they were born. In God's hand and surrounding God's body was flowers. Will recognized the tulips, but couldn't place the others.

"Tulips and heather." Hannibal walked forward from the trees. "Heather for transformation, they go from ugly things to beautiful ones. Tulips for new life, as they are among the first to bloom in spring." He explained.

"Beautiful." Will smiled.

"I see you decided to play a new game, mylimasis. Didn't think to invite me?"

"I did." Will turned and smiled at Hannibal, all teeth. "I just wanted to see what you'd do."

Hannibal smiled back. "Well, then...I'll play. You make moves and I'll react accordingly. I assume Jack suggested this game, not knowing who the real player was."

"He thinks himself a fisherman, you the shark, and me the bait."

Hannibal laughed. "How very misguided of our friend." Hannibal walked back into the trees without another word.

Will knew he was watching to see what Will would do...to figure out where the game would go next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care.  
> And don't accept love letters like the ones Hannibal gives out. They aren't healthy or good or anything like that. Pretty sure he'd kill anyone who wasn't Will anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Take care.


End file.
